Changing Twilight
by severnaya
Summary: Facing Voldemort several times without wand or any other tool as defence leaves Harry in a world of pain. Thoughts of suicide and new confidants lead him to alternate ways. How will he cope with his misery and the changes in his life? HP/DM, more inside ON HIATUS
1. Chapter 1: Visits

**Title:** Changing Twilight  
**Author:** severnaya  
**Rated:** M**  
Genre:** Angst/Drama  
**Summary:**Facing Voldemort several times without wand or any other tool as defence leaves Harry in a world of pain. Thoughts of suicide and new confidants lead him to alternate ways. How will he cope with his misery and the changes in his life?  
**Pairing:** Will eventually be Harry/Draco, so slash but more hints than anything else and no explicit scenes. Read to know more.  
**Warnings: **Torture, despair, suicide

**A/N: **Hello everybody and welcome to my first fanfiction. I finally dared to publish one too^^. I'm completely new here at FFN so please forgive me if I make any mistakes. I've rated the story M because I wasn't sure if later content would still be ok with a lower rating… Well, English also isn't my mother tongue. If you find any mistakes please tell me so I can fix them.

Ah yes, I don't own Harry Potter etc. They all belong to JK Rowling, Warnerbros. and so on.

Enough with this, here's the story:

* * *

**CHANGING TWILIGHT  
by severnaya**

**Chapter 1: Visits**

_You'd better hope and pray that you make it safe back to your own world.  
You'd better hope and pray that you wake one day in your own world.  
'Cause when you sleep at night they don't hear your cries back in your own world.  
Only time will tell if you can break the spell back in your world.  
(Shakespeare's Sisters – Stay)  
_

Since the day Voldemort had returned, since that cursed day in the old cemetery where he used Harry's blood to renew his body, the life of the Boy Who Lived had changed. Sure, his scar had hurt before, too, but it had been only pain, nothing more than a bad headache. Afterwards the visions had come, some true, some false, as Harry began to realize painfully. Nevertheless, that was what they were: visions, nothing more than bad dreams. Harry had always thought it couldn't get worse.

He and everyone else were wrong.

It all started some weeks ago during summer break. Once again, Harry had gone back to the Dursleys, silently and lonely mourning the loss of his godfather. He couldn't help but feel deserted. At first, Harry had thought it was a dream like the ones before, but he was mistaken.

After working all day for the Dursleys, Harry finally lay down on his bed, thankful that he could rest a few hours before the next day started again. Soon, he fell asleep. He was in the midst of a dense fog; no sound could be heard. Harry looked around, but he couldn't spot anything other than the grey-blue wafts of mist. Not knowing what to do, he just sat down, pretending that it was a normal dream, albeit a boring one. It took some moments until he realized that the fog had cleared. A huge room, more like a hall, came into view. The windowless walls, as well as the floor, consisted of dark silver-grey stones. At one end was a huge oak door, at the other stood a podium with a single throne-like chair. Harry couldn't see anything else in the room. _What a boring dream_, he thought. He was sure this was a dream - what else could it be? Curious as he was, Harry went over to the door to explore the place a little more. The door didn't have a handle, so he pushed it but with no result. Harry pushed harder, using his whole body, but the door wouldn't move even a tiny bit. Frustrated, Harry let go. _What's the sense in dreaming when you just sit in a boring room?_ Annoyed, he sank down beside the door, his back against the cold stone wall. Perhaps he would fall asleep. _Can you fall asleep in your own dream?_

He didn't know how long he had sat there when he started to hear voices from outside. Seconds later, the door was pushed open and several people in dark robes with hoods hurried inside. Harry, halfway hidden behind the open door, just sat there, staring at the people. _This really can't be real_, he thought. _It's just a bad joke. Why the hell am I dreaming about Death Eaters?_ Then, an idea hit him: could this be a new vision? But then, why all this prelude? And where was Voldemort? If this was a vision, dear Snakeface had to be here. Deciding not to push his luck, Harry stood up soundlessly. The Death Eaters seemed preoccupied with themselves; no one even glanced in his direction. Perhaps he could sneak through the door without being noticed.

His eyes fixed on the current Death Eaters in the room, he slowly stood up. One hand on the door behind him, he stepped around it and backed out of the room silently. He had walked barely one metre when a voice behind him made him freeze.

"Who do we have here? A guest, it seems."

_Damn, _Harry cursed himself mentally,_ why wasn't I watching__the corridor before? _He was so stupid!

Slowly, he turned around, all the time fidgeting for his wand. Only a few metres away stood no other than Lucius Malfoy in all his glory, including the trademark Malfoy I-am-better-and-superior-to-you sneer.

Harry's pulse quickened. Where the hell was his wand? He quickly looked down at his side and paused.

And why was he wearing his pyjamas?

"Nice dress," came Malfoy's mocking voice at that very moment.

Slowly, Harry began to panic. He was in the middle of a Death Eater horde, without his wand, in his pyjamas no less. _This is a dream, isn't it?_ He thought as he tried to calm himself down. _At least,__ kind of. So there's no problem, right? In a dream you can't die. Well, perhaps I'll die, but then I'll wake up in my bed and everything will be all right._ Nevertheless, he couldn't help but step back when Malfoy moved forward.

"Our Master will be delighted when he meets you, Potter," Malfoy said maliciously.

Before Harry knew what was happening, Malfoy had grabbed his arms, twisting them painfully behind his back. Harry had to grit his teeth to avoid making a sound. Malfoy then drove him forward into the hall. Soon, the other Death Eaters saw them and murmurs began to fill the room.

The murmurs quieted instantly when another cloaked figure entered the room. All but Malfoy, who still had a tight hold on Harry, knelt down. Harry felt his scar starting to burn even before he could see the person clearly.

_This dream really sucks,_ he thought.

Lord Voldemort, on the contrary, seemed to be more than pleased about the unexpected visitor, as he put it. Harry was sure that the other still was quite angry about how the battle at the ministry ended, and soon he too could feel it.

_How can a dream hurt so badly?_ he thought as another Crucio hit him. Although Malfoy had released him, his body contorted painfully at his enemies' feet, which left him helpless on the floor with no way to escape.

He was starting to believe this wasn't a normal dream when a strange feeling took hold of him, and in front of the group of Death Eaters' eyes, Harry began to disappear into thin air.

All around Harry fog was building once again, hiding the room with Voldemort from his view. Through the fog, he could hear the Dark Lord's frustrated scream echoing from somewhere in nowhere.

Harry woke in his bed where he fell asleep previously. His body ached but he couldn't find any wounds, not even a little scratch. _That definitely wasn't a normal dream._

The next day was hell as well.

That was the first "private meeting" between Harry and Voldemort, and unfortunately not the last. Every so often, in his dreams, he would be travelling to the exact same room. Sometimes he was lucky and just spent time there alone, but most of the time someone was already there.

When Voldemort had realised Harry would come and go unpredictably, he seemed to have advised his Death Eaters to stand guard, and every time Harry woke up in the blasted room, someone was there, happily fulfilling the order of his master; namely, torture Harry Potter.

***************

When school started on September the first, Harry wasn't sure if he should be glad or not to go back to Hogwarts. On the one hand, he couldn't wait for the moment to come to leave the Dursleys; on the other hand, at school it would be a lot more complicated to hide this new development. He wasn't sure why, but he despised the idea of telling someone about his dreams right now.

When he met his friends on platform 9¾ at King's Cross, he greeted them with an honest smile, but deep inside, he wasn't as happy as he should be. However, for the moment he could forget his sad feelings almost completely.

During the journey, though, he soon began to stare out the window, thoughts of Sirius and Voldemort on his mind. He sincerely grieved for his godfather and couldn't stop blaming himself, but this new predicament almost overwhelmed him.

His friends, with whom he shared a compartment as usual, looked at him with concerned expressions on their faces.

Every now and then Hermione threw glances at her friend over the edge of her book. Harry looked tired, with circles under his eyes, which were less bright than they normally were. He always had had moments where he just sat there, watching his friends without participating in their conversations, but the new grief was plainly visible. Hermione wished she could do something to distract Harry from Sirius's death; but neither had she known enough about the man nor could she imagine how Harry felt. Sirius was far more than just a godfather for Harry. They both had dreamt about a future together, living at Grimmauld Place like the family they both wished for. Now these dreams had been destroyed violently. The fight against Voldemort had cost Harry another family and another home.

Hermione sighed. Perhaps classes would help Harry; they sure had a lot to learn this year.

They arrived at Hogwarts without Harry saying a word. However, during the Welcoming Feast, he listened attentively to the Sorting and Dumbledore's speech. Eventually, he smiled at some of the jokes and stories the other Gryffindors told about their holidays and, for the time being, Hermione pushed her concerned thoughts to the back of her mind.

***************

The time passed quickly and soon the first three weeks of classes were over. Despite his attempt to act as normal as possible, there was something Harry hid deliberately from his friends.

Every night, Harry secretly cast a silencing charm around his bed, he wouldn't take the chances of waking the others and letting them see everything, whatever there was to see. He had to admit, he didn't know how he looked like when "visiting" Voldemort, he didn't even know if he really made any noise, the Dursleys never complained, but he truly could live without his classmates asking questions.

He didn't know when he had become like this either. Not long ago, he would have told his friends almost everything, but things changed.

However, Harry could only hold back the sound not the view.

It was pitch-black in the dormitory when Ron woke. Dark clouds obscured the small crescent of the moon. It must have been about two or three in the morning. He wasn't sure why he had awoken, nor could he remember the dream he just had. It was quiet in the room. Turning to his other side, Ron was just about going back to sleep, when his view fell onto his best friend.

Harry twisted around in his bed, hands clutched firmly in his sheets and eyes tightly shut. His mouth was slightly open as if he couldn't breathe properly. Without warning, his body stiffened, raising his torso hardly noticeably. His mouth opened wider for a silent scream. Then his limp body fell back on the cushions, but seconds later it got rigid again and Harry's eyes flew open. Panting heavily, he turned to his side. He stared at the floor while trying to compose himself.

Some breaths later, Harry got the feeling that he was being watched. He looked up and his eyes met the concerned ones of the boy in the bed beside him. Feeling caught, he dropped the silencing charm but was unsure what to do next. Luckily, Ron ended the silent stare.

"You're okay, mate?" he whispered, concern clearly swinging in his voice.

"Yeah," Harry whispered back weakly, looking everywhere but at Ron, "just a nightmare."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Harry refused, shaking his head.

"You're sure?"

Harry nodded and with a small smile he added, "Go back to sleep, Ron. I'm okay. It was just a bad dream."

"No You-Know-Who or anything like that?" Ron tried to sound as if he was joking, but failed miserably.

"No, I'm fine, really," Harry assured his best friend.

"'Kay, if you say so," the redhead answered, sounding anything but convinced as he rolled back over his bed.

Minutes later, Harry could hear the steady, rhythmic breath of sleep coming from the bed; and soon it turned into soft snoring. Sighing, he lay down again. His time in the fog at the beginning of the dream, or whatever it was, was shorter than the times before. It had taken only minutes to get into Voldemort's chamber. There was no way he would go back to sleep now.

***************

To Harry's luck, Ron didn't question him the next day but left him alone. Harry didn't speak to anyone at all; he just tried to get through his classes despite his aching body.

After Harry had left them alone to have an early night, Hermione, Ron, Ginny and Neville were sitting together in the common room.

"Harry is far quieter than before, don't you think?" Ginny asked the others.

"Kind of secluded," Hermione added.

"Melancholy," Neville offered quietly.

Ron struggled with himself whether or not he should tell his friends about Harry's nightly problems, but his concern won over his confidentiality as Harry's best friend. Anyway, the others were Harry's friends too, and perhaps together they could help. In the past five years, they'd had to solve far bigger problems, and sticking together always had worked out in the end.

"He has nightmares," Ron let his friends and sister in. "I saw him last night. He said he was fine, though."

"I wish we could do something to distract him from Sirius's death," Hermione said sadly.

"They were quite close, weren't they?" Neville asked tentatively. The other three nodded. No one seemed to know what to say.

***************

**TBC**

**It's done! My first chapter ever! I know, it isn't that long; however, I hope you liked it. Please review!**

** Sev**

**A/N: The song I quoted at the beginning of this chapter was also covered by the band **_**Cradle of Filth**_** some time ago. As I discovered this only when looking for the right lyrics of the Shakespear's Sisters' song, I will only reference them directly, but I thought you might be interested. **


	2. Chapter 2: Unexpected Help

On with the show, here's the second chapter. Enjoy!

**CHANGING TWILIGHT  
by severnaya**

**Chapter 2: Unexpected Help**

_Keep on falling, I keep falling down  
So far, far, deeper and further  
(Sirenia – Seven Keys and Nine Doors)_

For the first time in his schooldays, Harry was glad for Hogwarts's rough stone walls, as they offered more hold that way. Something he truthfully needed.

It had been a beautiful warm autumn day, and he had actually managed to fall asleep near the lake late that evening. It would have been nice, if he hadn't had another encounter with Voldemort once again. This time was even worse than the times before. Fortunately, no one had seen him.

Harry could barely stand and needed the walls for support. His vision was blurry and every breath felt like fire. If he didn't know any better, he would swear that a huge part of his side was missing where the dagger had hit him. However, like before there was no wound but only the pain, which was no less agonizing.

He was on the second floor now, and it was already dark outside, as he slowly dragged himself forward. The only good thing about this was that the possibility to meet someone was extremely low. Harry had no idea how he would explain his current condition. In addition, he didn't want anyone to know. As long as he could somehow manage without help, he preferred to do this alone. He couldn't stand the pitying glances of his fellow students or the oh so well meant advice of the professors. This wasn't the first time he dealt with pain on his own.

Once again, he needed a brake. He leant against a wall and closed his eyes, trying to control his heavy breathing. It was then that he heard the footsteps halting just in front of him. Harry opened his eyes only to stare into the silver-grey ones of no other than Draco Malfoy. Harry moaned inwardly. He really couldn't deal with Malfoy now.

"If that isn't the great Harry Potter," the Slytherin sneered. "All by himself. Where're the weasel and the mudblood?"

"Just leave me alone, Malfoy," Harry said tiredly, starting to haul further down the corridor. His vision blurred even more, and he knew he couldn't stand any longer.

"What's the matter, Potty?" Malfoy taunted behind him. „Even walking is too difficult for you?"

"Just piss off," Harry said before he fled into the first classroom available, slamming the door behind him.

Draco Malfoy stood perplexed in the empty corridor; then anger took over. No one, absolutely no one abandoned a Malfoy like this, and certainly not Potter. Without second thought, he stormed after his archenemy.

With force he pushed the door to the deserted classroom open. Once inside the room, his view fell onto the bent figure that sat on a chair near the entrance.

"You're a pathetic excuse of a wizard, you know that?" he spat, completely unaware that his counterpart obviously was in pain. "I really don't know what they all see in you."

"Sod off, Malfoy," Harry answered after catching his breath. "Can't you go scare some first years or something?"

"Sure I could, but I'd rather like to annoy my favourite victim... which would be you," Malfoy started with a provocative expression on his face. He really was in the mood for a fight after spending almost the whole day with Crabbe and Goyle.

Harry didn't answer, though. The blood rushed in his ears, and he could barely stay awake. He only could stay conscious through thinking about the humiliation of blacking out in front of Malfoy.

When he got no response, the blond left with a haughty, "Hmpf". He was only some steps away when a dull thump behind him made him stop. Out of curiosity he returned to the classroom, only to see a nearly unconscious Harry Potter lying on the floor beside the chair he had been sitting on before.

_Damn_, he cursed inwardly. He should just go away and let Potter lie there, but he didn't do so. Reluctantly, he knelt down beside the Gryffindor and rolled him on the back. He would never admit it, but he knew perfectly that the world needed Potter. His godfather had told him everything about the prophecy. He didn't like the idea, and he definitely didn't know how Potter should do it, but he also disliked the other possibility.

He slapped the boy before him, so he would wake up. Potter's eyes opened wider but that was all Malfoy would get as response. He was getting annoyed and his mind began to envision different scenarios of what he could do to Potter right now.

He could screw up Potter's mind, so the Gryffindor would admire him from now on or pledge his allegiances to Slytherin in front of the whole school. His father had taught him how to use memory charms, so it wouldn't be a problem. Then again, it would be quite annoying after a while, besides, he didn't want Potter to be a Slytherin. Slytherins had style. Well, at least the most important Slytherins had.

His mind turned into another direction. He imagined Potter hanging in the Entrance Hall, naked, with 'Dumbledore stinks' written on his chest. Alternatively, he could throw him in the dungeons, destroy the potions ingredients and see what his godfather would do with Potter once he found him the next morning. That definitely would be most entertaining.

Only now he realised that Potter seemed to be in great pain. He looked at the other boy a bit closer, pricking him here and there, but couldn't find any wounds. Sighing, he reasoned that in this state Potter wasn't an adequate and worthy rival at all. Cursing again, he grabbed the other's arm and heaved him up.

"Whayadoing?" Potter slurred to his chest, too weak to hold his head up.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "I'm bringing you to the infirmary, believe it or not."

However, before he could make a single step, Harry had wrested out of his hands, falling back to the floor. "No!" he exclaimed in a shocked voice, eyes wide-open.

Despite the open eyes, Malfoy was sure the other wasn't aware of much around him. "Damn, Potter, stop annoying me," he said angrily, but whatever he tried, the Gryffindor always found some rest of power to avoid being taken to the hospital wing, all the time mumbling something like "no professors" and "alone".

"Fine, okay!" Malfoy replied angrily. „If you prefer to rot here, just go along. What do I care?" With that he left the Gryffindor in the classroom and set out for his way to the dungeons.

***************

Malfoy stopped for the first time when he reached the entrance to the Slytherin dorms, but instead of saying the password, he halted and cursed for what must be the hundredth time this evening.

A few minutes later, he knocked on the door to the private rooms of his head of house.

"Mister Malfoy?" Snape said upon opening the door. "Why aren't you in your dorm? It's shortly before curfew."

"I have a request, Severus." The Slytherin used his godfather's given name on purpose, hoping it would make everything a bit easier.

"Come in." The professor motioned inside his quarters, watching his godson pass. "So, what kind of request do you have?" he asked after closing the door.

"I need several pain-relief potions as well a dreamless-sleeping one," Malfoy said as quickly as he could.

The Potions master raised an eyebrow.

"They aren't for me, no worries," Malfoy said quickly, guessing the question behind the Potions master's expression.

"And for what do you need these potions?"

"Don't ask. Please."

Perhaps it was the disgusted look on Draco Malfoy's face, perhaps the fact that the potions couldn't do much harm, in any case the professor agreed silently, turned around to his personal stocks and handed the requested potions to his godson.

"Thanks, Severus," the aforementioned said before he disappeared in the shadows of the corridor, thanking all gods that his godfather hadn't asked too many questions.

Carefully, he made his way back to the room where he had left the Gryffindor. He wasn't sure what he felt when finding Potter still lying on the stone floor. Without any more thinking, he made him swallow the different potions and spoke some healing charms, before he, once again, walked down to the dungeons.

***************

When Harry awoke the next morning, his whole body was stiff and sore. Nevertheless, he didn't feel any real pain. He ran a hand through his hair and looked around, trying to remember why he was lying in a deserted classroom instead of his bed. He only could remember that he was with Voldemort again, and lots of pain. Confused and a bit angry, he stood up. He didn't know what time it was and whether his friends would already miss him. Even though it sounded strange, he hoped they didn't.

When he reached for the doorknob a prickling ran through his fingers, and Harry stopped in mid-motion. Carefully, he pulled out his wand and considered the door more closely. What he found let him pause a moment, even more confused. The door was charmed, so one could only open it from the inside. _What sense does that make?_ Harry asked himself for a moment, but then dismissed the thought and headed for Gryffindor Tower to change.

***************

After classes ended, Harry went to the Great Hall for lunch together with his fellow Gryffindors. As he sat down, he saw Malfoy looking at him strangely. He had felt the Slytherin staring at him during the whole morning but couldn't make anything of it.

He tried to ignore it but the feeling of being observed didn't go away. Annoyed, he turned to Ron, who sat beside him. "Hey, Ron," he said quietly, "am I becoming paranoid or is Malfoy watching me the whole time?"

Carefully, Ron glanced over at the Slytherin table. "You're right, mate. He's watching you," he answered mutedly, almost whispering.

"Mhm," was Harry's only reply.

"I wonder if he's up to something," Ron said a bit louder than before.

"Who are you talking about?" Hermione, who had only heard the last part of the conversation, asked.

"Malfoy; he's watching Harry."

"Well, that's nothing new, is it?" the girl said, her eyes back on the Daily Prophet, reading an article she didn't finished during breakfast.

"You're certainly right," Harry admitted. It really wasn't the first time that Malfoy was watching him or the other way around. After all, they were sort of rivals. It was only natural that they wanted to know what the other was up to. Nevertheless, Harry could do without Malfoy's gaze on him, especially now.

They finished lunch without mentioning the Slytherin again but instead talked about important matters like how mean and unfair Snape was.

Eventually, Ron lay his fork down and said, "Let's go, enough food for now." Unaware, that his two friends had already finished minutes before him.

Standing up, Ron slapped Harry's right shoulder companionable with his hand. Harry inhaled sharply and couldn't stop his hand going to his shoulder.

"What's with your shoulder, Harry?"

"Nothing," Harry said rapidly. "I just ran into a door yesterday."

Both Ron and Hermione looked at him a bit quizzically.

"Well, as you said, let's go," Harry changed the topic while shoving Ron in front of him and out of the Great Hall, Hermione following behind.

***************

It was early in October when the day for the first Quidditch match had come, and to the excitement of many the year started with Gryffindor vs. Slytherin. The teams were halfway through the game, with Gryffindor leading eighty points to fifty, and both Seekers were circling high above the field, trying to find the Snitch. It was a perfect day for Quidditch, neither too cold nor too warm, no rain but also not too much sun to blind you. The crowd cheered in the stands, visibly enjoying the game. There wasn't much else to worry about than the Quidditch game. It was too early in the school year for exams, and with Fred and George gone the number of pranks had declined dramatically. Not only the Hogwarts population but also the whole Wizarding Community seemed in peace due to the lack of Death Eater attacks during the last months. The whole Wizarding Community except for one person. Because, despite all that and his love for flying, Harry just couldn't concentrate on the game he was in. For him, the last nights were rough, to say it in a friendly way. He had met Voldemort twice during the last week, and when he wasn't with him, he started to dream of the encounters, only to awake with a start, shaking all over. While the world was cheering, the Boy Who Lived lost the ground underneath his feet.

"Watch it, Potter!" Malfoy sneered next to him. "You look as if you're going to fall from your excuse of a broom anytime now."

Harry didn't answer, though. He was tired and hoped strongly there would be another way to end and win the game without him catching the Snitch.

Draco Malfoy enjoyed Quidditch. Sure, the only official reason he played was to annoy the Potter brat, but deep inside him he enjoyed flying and especially Quidditch and the position as Seeker. He loved the rivalry with the other team's Seeker, the attention and concentration one needed while focusing on finding the Snitch. He loved the feeling of power and detachedness; the feeling of absolute freedom, which always took hold of him when flying with hazardous, breakneck speed; the moment where you willingly loose control because you were far to fast and only your reflexes and pure abilities would safe your life. And then: the catch. The sensation of complete joy about something that unimportant like small golden wings tickling the inside of you hand. Yes, Draco Malfoy loved Quidditch. There even were times where he had to admit he was jealous of Potter because the Gryffindor could openly show how much he liked the game. Something a Malfoy could never do. However, he normally would only use these emotions to increase the hate he had to show.

Each game he chased after Potter. Well, sometimes Potter chased after him, but to be honest that was less and less the case. Until now it seemed.

At the beginning of the game Potter took off as usual, but soon it was clear for Draco that something was wrong. He observed Potter intently, pretending to look for the Snitch. Something definitely wasn't right with the boy-wonder. His eyes were glassy and the typical concentration in his gaze was missing. In addition, he flew considerably slower than usual. This wasn't fun. In this state, Potter was no serious opponent.

Draco tried to provoke him but Potter would only stare, like in this very moment. _He looks tired_, Draco thought. Potter's eyelids fluttered and then, to Draco's horror, his grip loosened, and he fell sideways down from his broom.

For a couple of seconds, Draco just stared at the spot where his archenemy flew a moment ago, until the screams coming from the stands entered his mind. With a jerk, he pulled around and dived as fast as he could.

They were about thirty feet high when he finally caught Potter's hand and slowed down. It must have been the combination of forces, the hard break, Potter's own weight and their sweaty fingers, but Draco could feel Potter slide out of his grip the moment he stopped. Seconds later a muffled sound could be heard in the otherwise silent stadium.

The pain in his back woke Harry, so he luckily only got a glimpse of the abhorrent room. His head was reeling. He remembered the fall and a hand catching his. _There had been a hand, hadn't there?_

Platin-blond hair came into his view. _Malfoy? _Why did he have the feeling that this wasn't the first time the Slytherin were leaning over him like that?

For a moment, the two rivals just stared at each other, before a golden flash caught their eyes. The Snitch was flying exactly between them; both could feel the flapping of its small wings. Again, emerald-green met steel-grey.

"Catch it." Harry wasn't sure if he only had thought the two words, or if he actually had spoken them. Either way, Malfoy caught the Snitch with his elegant fingers and stood up. He stepped away, joining the cheering group of Slytherins, when Harry's teammates and Madam Hooch reached them.

Two mops of red hair came into Harry's view, and he tried to smile. "Hey guys."

"Oh Merlin, Harry, are you okay?" Ginny breathed beside him.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry said, even if he still couldn't move. "I didn't catch the Snitch, though," he joked.

"That's okay, mate," Ron said forgivingly. "That was the first game; we can easily outrun them over the year."

"Ron!" Hermione, who had squeezed herself through the crowd and was now kneeling beside Ginny, exclaimed incredulously. "I can't believe you're thinking about winning a game when Harry is hurt!" The redhead beside her also looked a bit shaken, but not as much as Hermione.

"Err…" Ron stuttered. "Well, it's not that this is the first time that he's hurt, err, you know what I mean." The bushy-haired girl glared at him.

"I'm really fine, Hermione," Harry tried to help.

"How about you let me see about that, Mister Potter," Madam Hooch said, shooing the students out of the way.

"I really am fine, Professor," Harry repeated reassuringly, sitting up slowly, anxious to not show the real pain he was feeling in his back.

"Mister Potter, you fell about twenty feet or more, even if you feel fine, I want you to check with Madam Pomfrey, understood?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Harry answered, even if he didn't mean it. There was no way he would go to the hospital wing as long as he could stand by himself.

Nevertheless, Madam Hooch seemed to believe him. Harry waved his goodbye to his friends and made his way to the castle, but instead of going to the infirmary he spent some time in the Room of Requirement, just to be sure.

Hermione was watching Harry's retreat to the castle. While the teams were walking in direction of the locker rooms, she caught sight of the blond Slytherin and anger overtook her. For a moment, it had looked as if Malfoy would try to catch Harry, but then he just let him drop, catching the Snitch, seemingly completely uncaring about the injured student beside him. Malfoy even had stared at him while doing it!

***************

Later that day, Harry joined his friends at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall for dinner. The Slytherins were still cheering loudly, and when Harry passed their table, he could hear them making jokes of his inabilities to fly.

The faces at the Gryffindor table were a complete contrast to those of the Slytherins. Most students looked rather taken aback at the thought that their house lost against Slytherin. Harry sat opposite from Ron and Hermione. In contrast to their housemates, both his friends didn't look sad but angry, throwing fierce views over to the Slytherin table.

"Hey, what's the matter with the two of you?" Harry asked, before glancing over the table, deciding on what to eat.

"Malfoy," Ron gritted between teeth. After being the one who had to listen to Hermione's angry speeches, he also had started to ignore the lost match in exchange for run down on Malfoy.

"He could have caught you," Hermione started, "but instead doing so he let you fall, going for the Snitch."

"Not that we should expect anything else from that slimy, arrogant, little, my-daddy-is-a-Death-Eater-so-fear-me bastard," Ron commented, cutting the steak on his table fiercely.

Harry looked at his friends, feeling uncomfortable. He still hadn't told anyone what had happened between him and Malfoy in reality, and he didn't plan to do it, even if by now he was sure Malfoy had tried to catch him. He felt certain Malfoy wouldn't like the idea of him being Harry's saviour to be known widely around the school, and despite how much Harry despised the blond, he somehow thought he owed Malfoy so much to keep his mouth shut; especially because he really felt as if that hadn't been the first time Malfoy had helped him.

"Well, I'm fine and the school year just started, there's plenty of time for gaining points so that we'll win the house cup at the end of the year. Just forget Malfoy." Harry tried to calm his friends.

They didn't seem to be ready for that but dropped the topic nevertheless.

***************

The next morning Harry began to wonder if there was a certain schema with his visits to Voldemort, which he could work out to avoid the "meetings" in future. Surely, Hermione would be glad to figure the riddle out, but…. _No_, Harry thought, rejecting the idea the same instant.

Groaning, he stood up and went to the bathroom. During the night, he once again had gone through the fog, getting out at the same room as the times before. When he had arrived, a group of Death Eaters was present, torturing someone. _Did they do that all the time?_

As soon as they discovered he was there, two Death Eaters overwhelmed him and dragged him forward to the front.

Harry really didn't want to see what was going on; it was enough to be the victim himself, he really could do without witnessing the torture of someone else. However, he didn't have a choice.

Both his arms and legs were bound with rough ropes, preventing him from most movements. Additionally, strong arms held him firmly in place, one hand on his chin so he couldn't turn away his face. When he closed his eyes in one last attempt to avoid noticing what was going on at least partially, someone hit him with a spell.

His eyelids, still closed, seemed to disintegrate, becoming transparent. Despair caught him when he opened his eyes, defeated.

In front of him sat a man, clothes turned apart almost completely, allowing the view on his severely hurt body. Harry didn't know what the man had done to be at the wrong end of Voldemort's anger, or if he had done anything at all. But it wasn't important either.

Harry cringed as he felt the power of the curses, as they left the wands of several Death Eaters, aimed at the poor figure in front of them. When the curses hit their target, the man toppled down completely. His body was contorting itself in clearly painful ways, causing his wounds to start bleeding again. Hardly bearable cries made Harry's blood run cold, while they echoed through the room. Finally, the man's eyes rolled back into his head, and the body lay still on the grey, hard floor.

In the beginning, Harry had felt pity for the man and wanted to do something to help him; but later on, he started to feel glad for himself for once not being the target, and shame overtook him.

The feeling of shame came back to him while seeing himself in the mirror in the bathroom. He splashed his face with ice-cold water but the image of the man wouldn't fade. Sighing again, he finished, only partly ready to face another day.

***************

**TBC**

I hope you liked it. Please review! I'm glad about everything you have to say, be it good or bad.


	3. Chapter 3: Impending Aggravation

**Here you are: the next chapter of Changing Twilight!**

**Thanks to hisui86 and my sister who worked as beta-readers for me. I hope together we found all mistakes I made during writing. I still can't believe how often I wrote sighted instead of sighed ;-)**

* * *

**CHANGING TWILIGHT  
by severnaya**

Chapter 3: Impending Aggravation

_And what will happen?  
Will I dream?  
I am too scared too close my eyes.  
(VNV Nation – Legion)_

During the following weeks, Harry's nightly visits to Voldemort increased until it was every bloody time Harry fell asleep that he would wake up in that room; and every time the outcome was more or less the same. Voldemort really seemed happy about that fact, enjoying his new hobby, which only led to permanent pain in Harry's scar, whether awake or not.

Harry started to reduce the hours he would be sleeping, preferring to be tired than in constant pain. At one point, both he and Voldemort figured out that he couldn't die in those "dreams". Every wound or curse would have its effect and then fade away, only leaving the ache. Voldemort even tried the Killing Curse. Every time Harry thought about the way it had felt he couldn't help but shudder. He was just glad that the pain would ebb away much faster than the real wounds would have, otherwise he wouldn't have had a chance to hide everything from the others, despite the pain-relief potion he had stolen from the hospital wing.

Nevertheless, his friends noticed his constant tiredness, and Harry could tell they were worried about him.

***************

One day in November after Quidditch training, Harry landed on the ground of the pitch, a little distant to his team members, panting. Although he only flew some rounds, barely doing anything else than watching the others train, it was hard to breathe, and he felt as if he had outrun a hysterical Hippogriff. The sleep deprivation was finally showing its first effects it seemed. Harry was sure he couldn't sit through a whole real game; and without a decent Seeker, there was barely a chance for Gryffindor to win any game in future. Facing the inevitable, Harry went to Ron, whom they made captain after Harry refused to do it, and who was currently talking to Ginny.

Tapping his best friend on the shoulder, Harry got his attention. "Can I talk to you, alone?" he asked, sounding calmer than he felt.

Ron gave him a curious look but followed without a word. Once satisfied with the distance between the two of them and the others, Harry eventually stopped. Ron was still looking at him expectantly.

"Well…" Harry began, not sure what to say exactly, before he decided to come straight to the point. "I will drop out of the team."

Ron stared at him as if Harry had grown a second nose. "What?"

"You know, I… I'm not in the best condition lately, and I think you could find a better one than me, so…" Harry babbled.

"Are you completely daft? There is no way you will leave the team!" The second part Ron yelled loud enough to be heard all over the pitch, prompting the other players to come nearer. "Just because you're not in top form doesn't mean you have to quit. Really, Harry, how could you even think of such rubbish? The team needs you."

Harry just sighed. He wouldn't tell Ron that he was certain his form would not improve anytime soon.

"What's this nonsense about leaving the team?" Ginny asked, looking at Ron and Harry incredulously. The latter already wished he never had started this conversation.

***************

After a completely sleepless night, Harry joined Ron to meet Hermione in the common room the next morning to go down for breakfast together. Some minutes later, Harry half-heartedly poked around his scrambled eggs. Since he slept less his appetite also decreased.

"Harry, really, you have to eat something," Hermione scolded once again.

"I'm not hungry, Hermione," Harry replied tiredly.

"But she's right, you know," Ginny said, siding with the other girl.

Harry gave her a small smile. "I know."

Luckily, the owls just arrived that moment, distracting both of the two female Gryffindors. Harry sighed, unaware of the look his best friend gave him.

Ginny was already reading a letter from Bill, while Hermione paid the owl to receive the Daily Prophet. She was about to straighten the paper when a shriek escaped her lips.

"What's the matter, Mione?" Ron asked, afraid something bad had happened or that perhaps a spider would scuttle over the table. For good measure, he kept the table in sight while waiting for an answer, shifting slightly away from the tabletop.

"There was a breakout from Azkaban," the girl said seriously while scanning the article on the front page.

Harry, sitting next to her, glanced over her shoulder. _It was about time something happened, wasn't it? No surprise._

"There are four Death Eaters and some other prisoners of the same block missing," Hermione went on.

"Which Death Eaters?" Ginny asked.

"Avery, Macnair, Jugson and Malfoy," Hermione answered quietly. They all glanced over to the Slytherin table, trying to see the reaction of Malfoy junior. The Slytherin, however, was calm and wore his typical mask.

"Either he hasn't read the paper yet, or he already knew," Ron said conspiratorially, leaning low over the table, possible spiders forgotten.

"Does that make a difference?" Harry asked, not really interested. His mind was on an experience many weeks ago. Why had he never questioned that Malfoy was there the first day he had met Voldemort in his dream? If he broke out of Azkaban only a day ago, then that wasn't possible at all. Maybe these encounters were indeed just dreams, albeit strange ones? But how could they hurt so much, even after he woke up? Harry tried to find an explanation, but at this moment, he had to admit, he really didn't know what was going on.

Remembering the others around him, Harry stood up. "Well, breakout or not, we should go, it's late." Thankfully, it really was late, as Harry hadn't watched the time before his announcement. The friends gathered their stuff and left to their appropriate classes.

***************

On the way to the Charms classroom, Ron scrutinized his best friend. He really looked tired, with circles under his eyes. Sometimes it seemed as if Harry hadn't slept at all, but he still managed not to fall asleep during class. Harry never had been the most attentive student, but lately he was dreaming more and more noticeable. _I wonder if something's wrong, _he thought.

"You know, Harry," Ron started aloud, "the girls are right, you're really looking tired."

Harry shrugged. "I haven't slept well last night, that's all, nothing major or so."

"If you say so."

Harry didn't answer. He knew he wronged his friends, they were just worried, but at the moment he just couldn't make himself care.

***************

After lunch they had Double Potions. Harry hadn't had any possibility to slip away for another Pepper-Up potion, due to which he was extremely tired right now. He just hoped the classes would end soon.

Together with Ron he sat at one of the tables at the far end of the room, as far as possible from Snape's normal route.

At one point during class, his friend pushed his elbow in Harry's side to get his attention, while the dark-haired boy was staring at the same spot of the chair in front of him for quite a while.

"What is it, Ron?" Harry asked, not sure if he should be angry or thankful to be jolted out of his daydreams. Ron just gestured to the front with his head.

Slowly Harry looked in the pointed direction, only to find the Potions master staring at him with an indignant expression. "Sir?" was all Harry said.

"Detention, Mr Potter, eight o'clock sharp," Snape said before turning around, yelling at Neville because he was watching Potter and not his cauldron.

***************

At precisely eight o'clock Harry knocked on the door to the Potions classroom. Snape hadn't said where he should be, so he just hoped his guess was right.

With a last deep breath he opened the door. Snape sat behind his desk reading some papers, which he put away when Harry came nearer.

"Professor Snape, sir," Harry said tentatively.

"Sit." The Potions master gestured to a chair nearby.

For a couple of minutes, Snape just watched Harry without saying a single word. Harry didn't like the way the professor's eyes ran over his body just as little as the expression in the fierce eyes. His heart began to beat quicker, and he began to feel uneasy. Harry couldn't hold the gaze any longer and dropped his eyes to the stone floor. He didn't see the smirk on his professor's face.

After letting Harry suffer some more minutes, Snape stood, reaching in his robe to pull out a small bottle of deep-red potion. He walked around the desk and stopped only a few feet in front of Harry.

"I want you to drink this, Potter," he said, emphasizing the name in a contemptuous way.

"What is that, sir?" Harry asked.

"If you would pay attention in class, Mister Potter, even someone like you should know that," Snape said in the same tone as before.

Harry slowly reached out for the potion bottle. He was sure he never had seen such kind of potion before, paying attention or not.

"I am waiting."

Harry swallowed. "What does the potion do, Professor?" He definitely didn't want to drink an unknown potion Snape brewed, and certainly not when he was alone with the man, deep down in the dungeons.

"If you do not drink it by yourself I can make you do it, you know," the professor said again.

Harry's head jerked up to look at the Potions master's face. "You wouldn't-"

"Don't try me, Potter. I am still waiting."

Harry swallowed again. _This can't be good._ He opened the small bottle and lifted it to his lips, closed his eyes and emptied the bottle in one gulp.

The moment the liquid reached his stomach, iciness spread through his inside. He wrapped his arms around his middle and shut his eyes tightly. He couldn't breathe as the cold reached his throat. He opened his eyes only to see the floor sway in front of him. He could just make out the misty form of the professor before he collided with the floor, unconscious.

"How stupid can one be?" the Potions master muttered disgustedly. He then left the room, locking the door with several powerful spells, and made his way to Hogsmeade from where he could Apparate.

***************

Harry didn't have to open his eyes to know where he was; he could feel him. Neither did he have to wait for long until strong hands lifted him up and dragged him towards the throne. The Death Eater holding him threw him roughly on the stone floor directly in front of his master.

"Hello, Harry." The hissing voice of Lord Voldemort filled the room. "How nice of you to join us again. Ah, and there is the man of the hour."

A person knelt next to Harry, kissing the hem of the Dark Lord's robes. "My Lord."

Harry stood up, all the while looking at the man beside him in disgust. Severus Snape stood up too, head still bowed, waiting for an order from his Lord. Harry couldn't believe it. How many times had they told Dumbledore not to trust this man, but the old fool would never listen. Anger rose inside Harry now that he knew the truth about the hated professor. All the time the greasy git was loyal to the snake-face in front of him!

Said snake-face used this moment to rise from his throne. "Well then…" He clasped his hands in front of his robe. "Let the games begin."

With that the Death Eater behind Harry grabbed his arms once again, dragged him some steps with him and threw him onto the floor again. The other Death Eaters formed a circle around Harry, standing shoulder to shoulder, so he hadn't the slightest chance of escape.

Harry's pulse was racing but there was nothing he could do. Without his wand, he was completely defenceless and would never be able to escape from this room. The only thing he could do was to endure everything in hope it wouldn't take too long.

Voldemort gave a short order and every Death Eater raised his wand; a moment later Harry was hit by around twenty random spells.

***************

Not far away a hooded figure stepped through the door to a cell. Once inside, the person removed his hood to reveal long blond hair. At the opposite side, a lonely form sat on the bare stone floor, glaring at the Death Eater.

"What do you want, Lucius?" he spat.

"Oh my, what a bad mood," Malfoy senior sneered. "Hopefully the next hours will cheer you up. I'm here to provide you with some entertainment." With that, he moved his wand from left to right in a smooth motion while murmuring a spell. When he finished the incantation, the wall behind the prisoner began to glow until it was clear as a glass window.

The prisoner turned around to see a group of Death Eaters all aiming at someone inside their circle. He gasped when two Death Eaters left the circle to lift up no one less than Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, The Chosen One, Saviour of the Wizarding World. He gasped again when Hogwarts's Potions master, Severus Snape, came to stand in front of the injured boy. The man lifted up the boy's face and said something in a low voice the prisoner couldn't understand. He watched in horror when one Death Eater after the other was sending spells and kicks at the boy, every now and then using a Rennervate spell to wake him.

When Lucius Malfoy left his cell, he tried as good as possible to ignore the torture going on directly beside him. After what seemed hours, all Death Eaters but one left the hall. Snape was kneeling in front of his master.

"You know what to do," the Dark Lord said. Snape stood, bowed again and followed the other Death Eaters. After a self-satisfied glare at the wounded form on the floor, the Dark Lord disappeared as well. The last thing the prisoner could see, before the wall was back to stone, were the broken eyes of the nearly unconscious boy.

***************

For the first time in months, Harry wished for sleep. His whole body ached, stopping even the thought of moving. Unwelcome tears were running down his face, mixing with his blood. He wasn't sure if he could take any more. He closed his eyes but the blessing sleep wouldn't come.

He didn't know how long he had been lying there in his own blood, when he felt another presence beside him. With some effort, he opened his eyes, locking them into the dark orbs of Nagini, Voldemort's pet snake.

/Are you also here to torture me?/ he weakly hissed in Parseltongue, feeling oddly comforted by her presence, despite what he had said.

/Why should I?/ the snake asked.

A small laugh escaped Harry's lips, causing him to cough blood. /You are loyal to him./

/True. But I do not have any orders./

Harry wanted to say something, but it was in this moment that he was brutally forced back into his body, down to the dungeons in Hogwarts.

Snape had returned to the castle a few minutes ago, moving directly down to the classroom where he had left the Potter boy. He looked down on the bruised body. Too bad his master didn't allow him to kill the bastard. Instead, he used Rennervate to wake Potter. Before the student was completely conscious, he forced some potions down the boy's throat and used some spells on him.

***************

The next morning, Harry was the last of the sixth year Gryffindors to wake up. He didn't want to leave his bed, it was just too comfortable and warm. He snuggled deeper into the cushions.

"Hey, mate, come on. You'll miss breakfast if you stay there," he heard Seamus say.

The same moment hands began shaking his shoulder. Harry opened one eye and recognized Ron, who leant above him, grinning widely.

The raven-haired boy groaned. "Okay, okay, I'm up, you won." With that, he folded back his blanket and stood up. The moment he stayed upright, however, he swayed. "Whoa," he said, while trying to stop the room from spinning around him.

Ron had grabbed his shoulders, stabilising his friend. "Merlin, Harry, did you get drunk last night?"

"Yeah, was the detention with Snape that bad? You could have told us, you know, I gladly would have joined you," Seamus called from the other side of the room.

Harry stared at them. "Detention, yeah…" He could vaguely remember going down to the dungeons to serve his detention with the Potions master. He had met Snape in the Potions classroom, and then…, then… _Damn. _ He couldn't remember anything past then.

"Snape must have ridden you hard. What did he make you do?"

"I … don't know."

Ron looked at him incredulously. "How can you not know?"

"I mean I can't remember. I only know I've met Snape, everything after that is just a blur until you woke me." He couldn't even remember his way back to the dorm.

"Oh, that must have been good stuff then," Seamus said, more to himself than to the other two.

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, feeling as if he had missed something.

"Harry," the Irish began, switching into lecture mode, "there are only two possibilities: Snape made you brew something and either you also drank it, what I reckon as unlikely, or the fumes itself were enough."

"Enough for what?"

"Enough to let your body react as if you were drunk, high, or whatever."

"I'm not high!"

"But you can't remember a thing."

"Well…" Harry couldn't deny that.

"Don't get me wrong, mate, I don't blame you or something. I'm just curious of what that greasy git brew last night."

"Anyway," Ron chimed in again, "you're feeling okay now?"

"Yes, I do, absolutely." It was the truth, and only now Harry noticed he also didn't feel any pain at all, in the contrary, he really felt good, amazingly good to be honest. He still didn't like the idea of not being able to remember the time he had spent with Snape, but the pleasant feeling he was in right now made it easy to forget these thoughts.

After several further jokes at Harry's costs and about him being "drugged" by the fumes, they finally reached the Great Hall.

***************

During breakfast, Ron was unnaturally calm every now and then. Under the juvenile jauntiness, he couldn't stop thinking of what Harry had told them, or better, what he hadn't told them. He couldn't be such careless as he would have been before anymore. Too much had happened during the last year.

Hermione, after they had told her everything, seemed to think in similar terms. She watched her friend closely as Harry was holding on a single toast for more than five minutes. Even though Harry seemed fine and definitely better than the days before, something was noticeably wrong.

"I think we should try to find out what happened. It isn't right that you can't remember a thing, Harry," she told them sternly. "I don't even want to think about what Professor Snape could have done to you."

"Urgh, Hermione, that sounded rather...." Ron fished for the right word, "um, you know," he finished lamely, eyebrows constricted.

"I think you are overreacting, Hermione," Harry said. "Snape definitely doesn't like me, just as I don't like him, but he could have done a lot more during the Occlumency lessons last year and he didn't."

"Perhaps he now has different … orders," Ron said quietly, so only the three of them could hear him. "I, for my share, still don't trust him, being a member of the Order or not."

"But I'm fine, aren't I?"

"Are you defending him?"

"No!" Harry exclaimed. "I just can't believe he did anything right under the eyes of Dumbledore. Oh, whatever." He glanced at the head table where the teachers ate their breakfast. He couldn't deny to feel a bit more uneasy than before.

***************

However, the fact was that Snape treated Harry in the same way as always during the following days. The three friends were still a bit suspicious, which was normal as we are speaking of Severus Snape, but they let their worse ideas drop.

Nevertheless, there was another student wondering about the behaviour of previously named Slytherin.

Draco Malfoy was more than aware that something wasn't right with his godfather. Severus Snape never had been a person one could love unconditionally; despite the fact that Malfoys wouldn't love a person at all. Malfoys broke people, used people or tolerated their presence. Maybe, in a few special cases, they approved their presence. Needless to say, this was only the case when they could benefit from the other. Malfoys did a lot to people, but surely never loved them.

At least a Malfoy grew up that way.

Draco Malfoy, however, had long ago admitted to himself that he really liked the man. Yes, he cared about his godfather in a way he couldn't even care for his own parents.

All the more he noticed the subtle changes in the Potions master's behaviour, especially in the way he would treat him.

Late that night, Draco lay awake, once again reflecting on a scene from the day before.

He had gone visiting his godfather, expecting a chat about potions or something related. During the last years, he had begun to understand the attraction of that subject which had led to several private lessons in which Severus taught him the brewing of potions Draco, otherwise, wouldn't even have heard of when leaving Hogwarts.

Looking forward to another of these intense meetings, the first moment Draco had got a bit irritated was when the Potions master had opened his door, looking at him coldly. "What do you want?" the professor almost had spat at the Slytherin, despite his normal composed behaviour. After Draco had stated his interest, Snape had gestured him to come in; but instead of leading him to his private potion lab, he had shoved Draco to one of the chairs in the sitting area.

After conjuring a glass of whiskey for himself, without even bothering to offer anything else to Draco, he had stared at the boy with a calculating gaze. Not soon after, Draco had been caught in one of the most unpleasant conversations in his life.

The Slytherin sighed and turned to his back, staring at the ceiling.

Normally, his godfather was the only person who left it to him to choose, even if only in secrecy. Should anyone find out about their talks, both of them could be in trouble. But however great the danger was, Severus always had let him believe he run a chance to decide his future, that he had an own choice.

Well, up to now.

Over an hour, the Potions master had talked to him about the gloriousness and importance of joining the Dark Lord and Draco's future life. Everything seemed already planned.

Draco hadn't said much.

The walls of the dormitory seemed to come closer and Draco felt trapped. Breathing deeply, he stood up and left the room silently.

***************

In a higher part of the castle, Harry waited until he was sure his dorm mates were asleep; and after another half-hour had passed, he stood up. He spoke some spells he had learned recently, obscuring the bed from possible views. Everyone who looked in this direction would just see him lying there. He then dressed quickly and silently, took his Invisibility Cloak and left the dormitory.

He was tired, but he could go without another encounter with Voldemort that would last several hours. Instead, he had begun to wander around the castle, going to bed early in the morning, making sure his friends would wake him before things could go too bad. The only problem was to disguise the pain and relief he felt. Soon, he would have to think about something else.

Wandering around in the nightly corridors of Hogwarts was more interesting than Harry had thought in the beginning. Without too much worry about watching eyes, he advanced deeper into the castle, using floors he never even noticed before.

The other night, he had found another secret passageway, starting at the seventh floor behind a portrait of Gregory the Weird. Tonight, he wanted to see where it lead to.

The passage was about three feet wide and every now and then the way would change its direction but always going down. Several times, he reached junctions, which would lead to another direction on the same level. Not only one but many of the passages would branch out again, forming a maze inside the walls of Hogwarts. Some of them still staying at the same level, but others would lead up again or further down. Uncertain of what to do with all this possibilities, Harry followed the main way downwards. Well, at least the one that seemed to be the main way from the place where he had entered.

Passing another junction, he decided to come back with the Marauder's Map another night to explore the passages in more detail and add them to the map. Now, however, he wanted to know where this passage was ending.

He followed the main way, going deeper and deeper down.

Finally, he reached the end of the tunnel and looked around questioningly. The tunnel had widened, so Harry now was standing in a small room. Unfortunately, there weren't any doors or passages from here; it was a dead end.

_This can't be,_ Harry thought. Carefully, he inspected every single stone. There were several big stones, which were higher than Harry himself, alternating with smaller ones. After examining the wall to his left, he settled down on the floor, sighing. This was boring. There were hundredths of possibilities how to hide a passageway or a door. He would need nights to find it. Not that he hadn't enough time, but still.

Frustrated, he ended the Lumos charm and let the darkness surround him completely. For a moment, he considered the idea of just falling asleep here. At least here, nobody would see him. But he didn't want to go there, not tonight.

He stared into the pitch-black darkness; and then he saw the light. First, he wasn't sure if he really saw something or if his eyes just played him a trick. He rubbed his eyes and looked again in the direction. The light was gone but there still was a faint glow at the other side of the room.

Harry stood up, never letting his eyes waver from the glow. When he reached the spot, he saw that it came from one of the bigger stones. It wasn't really light, but the stone was slightly lighter than the rest of the wall. Harry stepped a bit closer and touched the stone with his left hand, but instead of feeling the rough structure, it went straight into it.

Harry gasped and drew his hand back, but curiosity overtook him. This was what he was here for, wasn't he? Slowly, he again let his hand sink into the stone. The whole surface shifted slightly, and Harry had the feeling, as if he would see double. In front of his eyes, he still could see the dark wall, but at the same moment he saw the nightly grounds of Hogwarts.

Without another thought, entire Gryffindor, he stepped into the stone, or better through it.

After a few steps, he left the stone wall behind and stood completely outside; the huge castle growing behind him into the sky.

Not far away a small light wavered in the dark night. Caught by curiosity again, Harry draped the Invisibility Cloak over himself, got a firm hold of his wand and followed the light.

***************

Draco Malfoy had left the Slytherin dorm and was wandering around the nightly corridors. When he reached the main entrance, the idea of feeling the cool night air on his face was more than appealing, and without another glance around, he opened the oak doors and slipped out.

Without any goal, he just followed the stone walls around the castle, lost deep in his thoughts. After stumbling over his own feet several times due to the darkness, he whispered a spell before he went on, losing himself in his thoughts again.

Eventually, he reached a place where the grounds went down. Unconsciously, Draco followed a beaten track down the hill. The trail passed through some smaller trees. Moss and lichens grew on the ground, colouring it in green, brown and yellow under the light of his wand, and here and there grey stones broke through the soft surface. The deciduous trees already had lost most of their leaves and were now growing like dark shadows into the night sky, forming an obscure gigantic web between the dark forms of the firs.

After a while, Draco stopped walking and sat down on a larger stone. Still without really thinking about it, he pushed up his left sleeve. In the light of his wand, his skin looked white and translucent. He stared at his immaculate forearm; following the blue lines of his veins from his wrist to his elbow, first with his eyes than with his thumb.

His thoughts went back to his soon-to-be Death Eater being and the mark, which would soon blemish his skin, claiming him.

***************

Harry had followed the light, and soon after, he saw that it was a person illuminating his way with his wand. Nevertheless, it was almost too dark to see but Harry couldn't lit his own wand as the light would give him away. Despite the darkness, Harry quickened his pace trying to get nearer, and finally he could see the shadow of the person, approximately as tall as he himself was, moving down a small hill between some trees.

Watching the person, Harry didn't see the tree branch reaching in his way. With a subdued cry, he stumbled and almost fell down. Holding his breath, he watched if the person had noticed him, but the dark figure just went further down the trail.

Letting some time lapse away, Harry took up the pursuit once again, this time more careful.

Only minutes later, the person sat down on a stone, and Harry hid behind some bushes. The wand light was illuminating the person better now, and Harry recognized blond hair, shining almost white in the dark surroundings.

The same moment, he was sure that the person was Draco Malfoy, and he was equally sure, that the Slytherin was up to something. Why else should he wander around at this time of the night?

He observed the other intently, waiting for whatever might come.

However, he hadn't expected Malfoy moving up his sleeve and staring at his arm. Was he already marked? Malfoy's arm lay in the shadow, and Harry couldn't tell if there was a mark or not. But then, Harry noticed the sad expression on Malfoy's face as he trailed his fingers along his forearm. Still, this could mean different things. As far as he knew Malfoy, the Slytherin could be sad about that he wasn't marked yet.

The moments passed with Malfoy just sitting there and Harry hiding behind the bush. The night was getting colder, but both youth didn't seem to notice or just didn't care.

Eventually, Malfoy laid his head in his hands only to raise his head again moments later to stare at the night sky. Harry was holding his breath again, but this time not because he was afraid of being caught, but due to the expression on Malfoy's face.

The masks that the Slytherin normally wore were all down, and Harry could clearly see the longing in Malfoy's eyes. Longing for something he never could have, never could achieve. Before he could do anything more, though, the light at the Slytherin's wand went out, submerging the two boys into darkness.

***************

**TBC...**

Once again I hope you liked it. Please review! I am really curious about what you think so far.


	4. Chapter 4: Converted Dreams

**A/N: Hello again, I thought it was time for another update. Do you agree? I was in Munich for some days and I couldn't work there. But I've visited Neuschwanstein, I really love that castle. Err, well, back to the topic. I had some difficulties finding a title for this chapter but eventually my sister came up with one, so thanks goes to her.**

**Also I would like to thank all of my readers but especially those who put me on their favourite or alerts list (*waves to hisui86, wingsangel07, Alexandria Jade Lily Potter, phoenixi77 and twice-as-evil-as-you121212) and of course a big thank you to Meany, who send me my first review and who made me to rethink some aspects again.**

** This chapter is my longest so far and I hope you like it. Take it as an apology in advance, as there will be a very short chapter coming soon. This time there will be a talkative Dark Lord and a lot of pain for Harry. Sorry about that. I promise it won't go on like this the whole story.... only a bit more.**

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**CHANGING TWILIGHT  
by severnaya**

**Chapter 4: Converted Dreams**

_I am pain  
I am real, I'm not a dream  
I'm the chain around your neck when you scream._

_I am pain  
I am the wound that never heals  
It's all in vain, no compromise, no deals.  
(Ayreon – Day Three: Pain)_

Thursday evening Harry was on his way down to the dungeons once again. Another detention with Snape was waiting for him due to nonattention in class, as Snape had put it. When he entered the classroom, the professor was already standing near the door, looking furious.

"All right, Potter, I do not want this to take too long. Drink this." He handed Harry a small potion vial that was already open and that contained a deep red potion.

"Sir, what-" Harry began but had to stop when Snape launched forward and coerced him to drink the liquid. First the potion burned in Harry's throat and stomach like a shot neat Firewhisky, but then the burning increased and started to seriously hurt him. Shocked and in pain Harry fell to his knees and seconds later to the side; the room swirled around him.

Snape leant closer, and when he spoke, Harry could feel his breath on his skin. "Time for another visit, Mr Potter."

Harry didn't have much time to understand before his eyes went shut, but it was enough. Snape knew. Knowing this and with a feeling of dread, he lost consciousness.

***************

Severus Snape was sitting in his cell, where he was held prisoner since Voldemort figured out his true loyalty. His body was aching, but it must have been nothing in comparison to what the boy must have suffered. He still couldn't believe what he now witnessed for the second time.

Once again, they had modified one wall of his prison, in order that he could watch and hear the ongoing torture. Harry Potter, the appointed saviour of the Wizarding World, was squirming with pain on the stone floor of the hall in front him. Blood was running from his scar and mouth. Several Death Eaters surrounded Potter and took turns in cursing him or just kicking him with their boots. In the beginning, the boy had tried to fight back but it didn't take long until the Death Eaters overwhelmed him. Ultimately, Harry Potter was just a boy, and a relative small one on top of that, who didn't have a chance in a fight without his wand.

Severus spun around, hearing the cracking sound of the door to his cell. With a demonic grin on his face, the Dark Lord himself came inside. He stood near the transparent wall, just beyond Severus's reach, as if he was looking out of a window watching children play.

"Is this evening entertainment to your satisfaction, my dear Severus?" he hissed mockingly.

Severus, feeling he couldn't loose much, glared at the wizard before him. "Why don't you just kill him?" he asked. "Why this game with getting him and letting him go again?"

"Why, Severus," the Dark Lord began, "I am not doing anything. The brat just comes and goes as he wished, well, mostly."

Severus just stared. Certainly, he had misheard.

"You know, this is quite fascinating," Voldemort went on, and if Severus wouldn't know it any better, he would say the Dark Lord just sounded like an excited child. "In the beginning it was quite annoying, truth be told. I couldn't reach him in real, no matter how hard I tried. But I wanted to meet him again. I wanted to end what I've started. Then, one night, he came here. I have to admit I don't know exactly how he did it, but I don't care. I just wanted him dead. I even tried the Killing Curse."

Severus gulped but tried to stay still, perhaps the Dark Lord would tell him enough in order to help Potter, under the condition both of them survived long enough.

"However," Voldemort went on without paying close attention to Severus, "no matter what I do, the visible effects vanish shortly after, but as you can see, the pain stays. Oh yes, he feels everything. Perhaps I can't kill him, but I most definitely won't let this possibility go to vain. Imagine what I can do to him, now he's at my mercy every time he's asleep. This is so much better than just playing with his mind like last year." He paused to listen to a particularly anguished scream. "Lovely, isn't it?"

Severus wished he could just close his eyes and ears, but he knew better than to try it in the company of the Dark Lord. Instead he watched as the Death Eaters conjured two poles between which they tied their victim. Potter couldn't do anything to defend himself. Severus saw how the chains cut into Potter's wrists; the boy didn't even seem to notice. He watched with morbid fascination while the blood was creating a crimson design on the boy's forearms. Soon after, the first lashes went down on the boy's back. His body was already too weak to resist, and with each strike of the whip he let out a painful scream, wishing it all to end.

Fortunately, Harry only had to bear the direct pain for a few minutes more, before he felt himself drifting away.

"And there he goes," the Dark Lord said in a voice Severus couldn't classify, before he too left, leaving his prisoner with his own thoughts.

***************

When Harry woke up, the only thing he could think of was pain, excruciating pain. He needed several minutes to compose himself and to clear his thoughts as good as possible.

Seeing that he was lying in one of the unused dungeon classrooms, he tried to sit up. He remembered Snape sending him to clean all the rooms on this floor and another visit to Voldemort. He must have fallen asleep during his work.

It was then that he realised something was wrong, even falser than he thought it could be. Although his clothes were undamaged, there were several spots of a dark, crimson liquid. Trembling all over, Harry slowly opened the shirt he was wearing and gasped. His torso was littered with scratches and bruises; no question how his back must look like. All his wounds were still there, plainly visible.

He gaped at the wounds, trying to calm his breathing; but apart from the pain Harry now felt other emotions erupting inside of him, at the top angst and despair.

***************

Ron and Hermione were sitting in their favourite armchairs near the fire in the Gryffindor common room, waiting for Harry. It was late, after curfew, and their friend still hadn't come back from his detention with Snape.

"I wonder how long Snape will keep him," Hermione murmured.

"Last time I didn't see him until the next morning," Ron said in a low voice, remembering the morning when Harry couldn't remember a thing of the last night.

Hermione followed the same paths of thoughts. Perhaps they shouldn't have ignored that incident. They should have talked to someone.

"We could go down and fetch him," Ron proposed.

Hermione sighed. "No, when he's still with Professor Snape we would only cause him trouble and us too."

"You're right." Ron sighed also. "Come on then, let's go to bed. We're at Hogwarts, Harry will be fine."

"Yes, yes you're right," Hermione said while gathering her stuff. Both teens ignored willingly all those things that had happened to them before, out- and inside Hogwarts.

***************

At the same time, Harry dragged himself through the nightly corridors of Hogwarts once again. Even though he felt like crap, he still detested the idea of going to the infirmary, letting the nurse in on his little secret. She would definitely not stop until she knew the whole truth, and then she would go straightaway to Professor Dumbledore. That only left one possibility.

It wasn't that Harry didn't like the Professor, he didn't hate the man at all, but after the events in the last year, and all this secret-mongering on his part, now it was Harry's turn. He wouldn't leave everything as soon as he had a problem, running to great Dumbledore begging for help.

Sure, had he told someone where they were going that fateful day, maybe Sirius would still be alive; but if the adults, and Dumbledore especially, would have trusted him, all that wouldn't have happened in the first place. Anyway, it was his life he was playing with now, wasn't it? Prophecy or not, it was still his own, damned, pathetic life. It wasn't their right to decide.

Finally, he reached the Room of Requirement. The way up there had been hell, but somehow he had managed. He wasn't sure what he had asked the room to offer, but was thankful when he found really everything he needed right now, which, admittedly, wasn't that much.

An armchair was standing near a window with a low table with all kind of potion bottles and salves next to it. On the other side of the chair was a likewise low bookshelf.

Slowly Harry made his way to the chair. He sighed in relief when he felt the soft, cool material soothing his abused skin. The first bottles he reached for were pain-relief potions. After he downed several of them, he continued with Pepper-Up potion, to avoid falling asleep again.

When he started to feel slightly better, he searched the salves for something to cure the cuts and bruises on his body. He had watched Madam Pomfrey enough times to know what to do.

A while later he looked more closely on the books and was positively surprised to find various different kinds of glamour spells. _Exactly what I need._

At the end of the night he had made two decisions.

Firstly, he had thought about telling someone after all, but had decided against it. He still had some doubts if this really was the right decision, but he just couldn't take the idea speaking to Dumbledore about this, and no matter whom he told, Dumbledore would knew moments later, about this Harry was sure. A small voice in the back of his mind told him to confide in his friends; told him that they wouldn't run to Dumbledore straight away. But once again he dismissed the idea. If Voldemort could get him, he could also get them, and he didn't want them in danger any more than they already were just because they were his friends. Additionally, he had kept silent this long, and he had to admit that he was afraid of their reaction. As long as he didn't need them he kept quiet, and now, when everything got more complicated, he would just remember them? Weeks ago, he had decided to handle this alone, now he would have to stick to his decision.

Secondly, he decided to stay completely awake as long as possible, at least until he found another way out of this misery. He had enough and was sure not to be able to bear much more pain and torture. Even with the potions and salves, his body was hurting with every movement, and with the visible wounds it would be much harder to hide this development.

He stayed a little longer inside the room before he went to Gryffindor Tower to pretend he had come in late that night.

***************

The weekend after this last encounter with Voldemort was a Hogsmeade weekend.

Harry, Ron and Hermione were walking down a small road, avoiding the crowds of students on the main street. Hermione was carrying a huge amount of books, freshly bought in the bookshop they had visited just minutes ago.

"Blimey, Hermione, what do you want with all these books? Isn't the library big enough?" Ron asked incredulously.

"Really, Ron," Hermione responded seriously, "I can't always depend on that library. There will be a moment when I can't just run there."

"Sure, instead you will carry all books with you, wherever you go." Harry snickered. "Just in case, of course." He hadn't slept the last two nights, and perhaps that was the reason he felt slightly light-hearted today.

"Harry!" Hermione started but left it with that, seeing the real smile on her friend's face. That wasn't something they could see often lately.

They were just about to turn back to the main street, when Harry caught a glimpse of blond hair. It was more a reflex than a real decision, but he stopped and walked a bit further down the road to see what was happening there. His friends called him once but then followed him nonetheless.

Just a few steps further, Harry stopped dead in his tracks.

"Harry, what's the…" Ron began, but became silent as well, seeing why Harry had stopped.

Only some yards away there was Draco Malfoy, his back at the wall of one of the houses, looking apparently unwell. However, that wasn't what, or better who, had caught the attention of the three teens. Directly in front of the Slytherin was Lucius Malfoy, with one hand leaning at the wall next to his son's face, the other at the front of Draco's robes, looking rather angry.

Both Malfoys immediately changed their expressions on seeing the three Gryffindors, and the elder let go of his son.

"What is HE doing here?" Ron blurted out. "He should be in Azkaban."

"My," Malfoy Senior said in feigned surprise, ignoring Ron's comment, "who do we have here? The saviour of the light with his pet weasel and a mudblood. How is your back, my Lord?"

The Hogwarts students thought Malfoy would allude to the Quidditch accident weeks ago and found it a rather lame insult. Harry, however, knew that Malfoy meant his last encounter in a certain room, only some days ago.

In retrospect, Harry was sure it was this moment where his light-hearted mood changed into recklessness. With a smile, which could rival one of the Dark Lord's, he stepped forward.

"Oh, I'm quite well, thank you," he mocked Malfoy's voice. "How is your arm?"

"My arm?" Malfoy asked, instantaneously berating himself for letting his lack of understanding slip. Since when did he lose control in front of someone like Potter?

Harry just let his eyes linger on Malfoy's left arm for a short moment. Moments later the others could clearly see how the fake smile on Malfoy's face made room for disbelief and then pain. The man stared at Harry, unable to comprehend what was just happening, while the pain in his arm increased steadily.

Harry could see how Malfoy fought the impulse to press the arm against his chest; and he enjoyed the picture of Lucius Malfoy trying to suppress a whimper tremendously.

Draco followed his father's eyes to Potter's smirk. "What are you doing, Potter?" he asked loudly.

At this, Ron and Hermione also took their eyes from Malfoy Sr. and instead looked at their friend.

Harry still wore that cruel smile, his eyes fixed on Malfoy, committing every moment of his weakness to memory.

"Harry?" Hermione tried tentatively.

"Just some small….debt I had to settle," he said, his voice low and dangerous but still mocking.

At this Malfoy couldn't stop but grab his left forearm with his other hand. A gesture none of the present could misunderstand.

Draco's eyes went wide, Ron and Hermione gasped and three pair of young eyes looked shocked at Harry, who started to get a headache just beyond his scar.

"You will pay for this, Potter!" spat Lucius Malfoy at this moment. "Be careful in your sleep." With the last threat said, he Disapparated.

The three teens looked at Harry again, whose own impression now had changed to a mixture of pain and incomprehension.

"Are you okay, mate?" Ron asked.

"Yeah, just a headache." Harry nodded, rubbing a hand over his forehead. "Well, we're still on our way to Honeydukes, aren't we? Let's go," he continued as if nothing had ever happened.

"Err, sure." With that the three Gryffindors turned around without even looking back at Draco.

***************

Later that day, Hogwarts's Golden Trio sat in the Gryffindor common room. They hadn't talked about their run-in with Lucius Malfoy during the whole day. Hermione had tried it several times and had insisted to go to a professor, as Lucius Malfoy was a convict on the run, but Harry always had turned her down. In the end, she had gone to Professor McGonagall on her own, leaving the two of them alone.

The two boys had stayed outside a while longer, but had returned to their common room when dusk started, joining Hermione again, who still looked a bit offended. The whole day, Ron, too, had wanted to talk about the incident, but for completely different reasons than Hermione. Inside the safety of the castle, Ron just couldn't hold it anymore.

"Really, Harry, what you did to Malfoy was so cool. I think I will never forget his face in my whole life."

Harry just looked to the floor, pretending to smile.

"And his try to threaten you. 'Be careful in your sleep'. Does he want to send you nightmares or what?" Ron went on.

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed.

"What?" Ron looked quizzically at the brown-haired witch, who silently formed the words "last year" with her mouth. "Oh," Ron began when realisation dawned, "sorry, mate, I didn't mean it that way. Anyway, last year it was You-Know-Who, not Malfoy…." Ron trailed off seeing the expression on the female Gryffindor's face.

Harry, however, didn't notice much of the conversation going on around him. When he realised that none of his friends was talking anymore, obviously waiting for an answer to a question he hadn't heard, he just said, "Yeah, could be", hoping it would fit somehow.

He also didn't see the glance Ron and Hermione exchanged after his answer. He only looked up when Hermione touched his arm lightly.

"Harry? You did something with his mark, didn't you?"

"Err, something, yeah," Harry said, wandering with his eyes from the floor to the fire roaring beside them. "I'm going for a walk. See you later," he continued before anyone could say something in contradiction or asking any more questions.

The two Gryffindors stared at the portrait hole through which Harry had disappeared. Hermione drew up her legs, put her arms around her knees and started to bite her lower lip, completely forgetting that she was cross with the two male Gryffindors.

"He looks so lost sometimes," she said after a while, her eyes shining with tears.

Ron stood up and knelt down before her. "Hey, Mione," he said comfortingly, petting her arms.

"I don't want to lose him Ron. I'm scared."

"Shh, you don't have to be, Mione, everything will be fine, he'll be fine."

"Ron," Hermione said more forcefully, "look into my eyes and tell me you're not worried about him!"

Ron couldn't do it. Not even he couldn't deny that Harry had changed. Not only today. He saw Harry flinch every time someone touched him, saw him walking carefully down a staircase as if badly injured. Whatever was bothering Harry, it was getting worse.

***************

Since the last encounter, Harry spent more and more time in the library, trying to find something that would help him. First, Hermione was more than happy to see Harry in there, finally taking his study seriously, but after a while his friends became curious what exactly he was looking for. Therefore, Harry stopped his daily visits, changing them to nightly ones.

Harry also got more and more aggressive. He knew it was because his lack of sleep, but he couldn't help it; this still was a lot better than the alternative.

It weren't only his best friends who had to suffer under his moodiness. Everyone who came too close to him would end with a good dressing down. Most of them only verbally but some Slytherins weren't that lucky.

One evening, after Harry had stormed out of the common room after a heated discussion earlier that day, he slowly approached his friends. He breathed deeply once before looking up at their faces.

"I wanted to apologize," he started. "I haven't slept that good the last nights, so, well, I'm sorry, okay?"

"Sure, mate," Ron said invitingly. "Care for a round of wizard chess?"

"Err, okay." Harry wasn't really in the mood, but he thought if this would help to make up with his friends than it should be.

While Harry and Ron were starting the game, Ginny and Hermione sat near them, watching silently; at least for the beginning.

After some minutes, Ginny addressed Harry quietly. "Perhaps you should speak to the Headmaster-" She didn't get any further as Harry jumped to his feet.

"Blast it, Ginny!" he almost yelled. "I don't have to run to Dumbledore just because I can't sleep, okay, I'm not a kid!" With that, he once again stormed out of the common room, leaving several stunned Gryffindors behind.

Harry was still seething with rage several minutes later. Without paying attention to his surroundings, he wandered around the castle, unconsciously using less frequented corridors.

Somewhere on the second floor someone ran into him.

"Watch it!" Harry spat without looking up who it was.

"Oh, does the Boy Who Lived has a temper tantrum?" a voice sneered behind him.

Harry stopped and turned around slowly. "Malfoy," he drawled.

The Slytherin smirked at him, but inwardly he was shocked at the look on Potter's face. "You know, you should do something about your appearance, you look dreadful." He had wanted to say more but Potter's fist came flying at his face, and he barely could duck.

"Merlin, what's wrong with you lately, Potter?" Malfoy shouted, and losing his own temper he pushed the Gryffindor against one of the walls.

Harry hissed in pain as his back collided with the rough wall. He struggled against the other boy, but Malfoy was stronger than he was. He tried to get away, but the blond's hands just gripped tighter at his robes.

During their struggle, Harry's ropes slid up. Panic rose inside of Harry as his secret was to be exposed shortly, as he wasn't able to use glamour spells for his whole body. In one last, almost desperate attempt to escape, he threw his whole body forwards and turned to the side. He could feel the Slytherin's grip loosen but then the sound of ripping cloth let him freeze.

Wide-eyed he turned back, only to see Malfoy's equally wide eyes staring at his exposed arm, where the remaining signs of his last encounter were still plainly visible, especially were the chains had cut into his wrist.

Malfoy looked up at Harry, and for a moment Harry was sure he saw something like recognition in his eyes, as if the Slytherin knew exactly what caused such wounds.

Malfoy stared into Potter's green orbs and a memory began replaying in front of his inner eyes, a memory in which he had found Potter visible in pain.

He wanted to say something but Potter just turned around and ran away, vanishing in the dark corridor.

***************

Harry's days got worse. Every time he needed a higher dose Pepper-Up potion. When the Room of Requirement couldn't offer a higher one, he just started to take two at a time. The potion was the only thing that kept him awake. Still, he could feel the effect growing weaker.

As a side effect of the potion, he almost completely stopped eating. His stomach rebelled against everything more than one or two bites of dry toast at breakfast or a bit of soup. As his friends got even more concerned and started to ask more and more questions, Harry began to skip meals. He also avoided them during the rest of the day, only coming to class right before the professor and leaving immediately after the bell rang. No one knew where he was in the meantime.

Professor Dumbledore had tried to talk to him several times, but each time Harry had reassured him he was fine, that he just wanted to be alone once in a while. Harry doubted that Dumbledore believed him completely, but at least he let him be.

Parallel to his body his magic grew weaker, too. The constant glamour Harry held up nowadays cracked more and more. He was glad, that most of the wounds were healed by now.

The last night he had spent outside on the Astronomy Tower, using the cold to stay awake. It had been a starlit and silent night. Millions of stars had filled the sky above Hogwarts, sparkling down on Harry from far away, promising eternity. To his feet, the black silhouette of the Forbidden Forest had reached out as far as the hills in the east and the meadows and swampland in the south. The whisper of the wind in the trees had been the only sound Harry could hear.

He himself had sat on the roof of the Astronomy Tower, protected from the wind. The coldness of the stone floor had seeped through his clothes, but it hadn't bothered him. Somehow, the cold touch had been comforting; it reminded him that he was still alive.

He had sat there, hour after hour, thinking about everything and nothing, until the sky in the east turned to a lighter shade of blue, announcing a new day.

***************

One day, after Harry staggered weakly out of the Great Hall, Professor Dumbledore approached the other Gryffindors.

"Miss Granger, Mr Weasley, please come to my office after breakfast," he said calmly.

"All right, Professor," they replied. They didn't need to ask why the Headmaster wanted to speak with them.

Shortly after the Headmaster had left the Great Hall, Hermione and Ron also said goodbye to their friends and made their way to the stone gargoyle that marked the Headmaster's office. They didn't have to bother with the password, as the statue sprang open the minute the two arrived. They went up the spiral staircase and knocked politely at the office door.

"Come in." They heard the Headmaster's voice from the inside and followed.

Dumbledore stood near a high window with his arms crossed at his back, as he watched the ground outside. When Ron and Hermione entered, he turned around and gestured them to sit down in the chairs in front of his desk. He himself went around his desk and sat down heavily in his armchair. "Lemon drop?" he asked his students. When both declined politely, Dumbledore put the small box with yellow candies down; when he next looked at the Gryffindors, his expression had turned serious.

"Well, I am sure you two know why I wanted to speak to you?" he asked.

"It's about Harry, isn't it?" Hermione asked knowingly.

The Headmaster nodded. "Quite right, Miss Granger. To be honest, I am worried about him."

"So are we," Ron mumbled softly.

The Headmaster heard him nonetheless and nodded again. "He seems a bit ill lately, but Madam Pomfrey told me he hadn't visited her the whole school year. Do you know anything?"

Hermione looked at Dumbledore. Harry should at least have been in the hospital wing after the Quidditch match.

"Well," Ron began, "he says he sleeps badly, but he never told us why."

"He is distracted and doesn't pay attention," Hermione added calmly. "And… he spends a lot of time alone."

"Did Harry tell you anything more specific? Anything why he behaves like he does?" Dumbledore asked and the concern was plainly audible in his voice.

The two Gryffindors shook their heads, and Dumbledore sighed. "Please inform me if you find or remember anything else," he said with a sad expression in his eyes. "You can go now."

The two students said goodbye and left the office, leaving the Headmaster alone.

***************

It wasn't only the teachers and fellow Gryffindors who watched the changes going on with the Boy Who Lived. From the far end of the Great Hall, silver-grey eyes lingered on his worn out form, absorbing every flutter of his eyelids, every jerk, and every stagger.

Draco noticed that Potter ate less every day and that he barely was with his friends anymore. He also didn't fly anymore; in fact, he hadn't seen him outside for a long time. Potter looked pale and haunted. Something was definitely wrong with him. And then these injuries…

Draco was sure something was going on since the day in Hogsmeade, but he didn't know when he started to care; and this he had to admit it: Draco Malfoy was worried about Harry Potter.

He would joke about Potter with the other Slytherins but every time it was more difficult to find insulting comments, when in reality he wanted to comfort the other boy. For the first time in his life, he thanked his father for showing him how to wear a perfect mask, allowing you to hide all of your feelings.

It was the same day, a bright, sunny November day, only a few hours later, when agonizing screams echoed through the castle, stopping everyone dead in their tracks.

***************

Harry supported himself on one of the walls, trembling all over. He was having one of the worst headaches in his life and could only see black and white spots in front of his eyes. He was on the way to the Room of Requirement, which had become a sort of last refuge for him. He was almost there, only this corridor up to the end and then up the hidden staircase.

He made a single step forward but had to stop immediately, as the little movement was enough to let nausea hit him.

Before he could think of what to do, his legs couldn't carry him anymore, and he collapsed, unconscious before he even hit the ground.

He woke up minutes later to the feeling of someone pulling on his hair. His mind immediately knew where he was. He groaned, although he felt better now than in that corridor in Hogwarts, perhaps because he was asleep now, kind of. Nevertheless, Harry knew it wouldn't stay that way when he was here, together with someone else.

As if the other person had read his mind, Harry felt the palm of his tormentor's hand slapping his cheeks, trying to wake him completely. To Harry's misfortune it worked.

When he opened his eyes, he couldn't see who was holding him. Instead he saw Lucius Malfoy, with a cruel and vicious look on his face. Harry knew he only could hope someone would find him and wake him up.

Malfoy came closer until their faces almost touched. "I told you to be careful in your sleep, Potter. Now you will pay. As I cannot kill you, the Dark Lord gave me whole freedom. You are at my mercy and when I'm finished you will beg our Lord for your death."

Harry's torture began with the worst Cruciatus he had ever experienced. Soon after, he once again was tied up, and the chains tore the just healed wounds at his wrists open again. An undefined time later the chains disappeared, and with a crash he was thrown to the floor, his whole body trembling in pain. He already was at the point where he only could wish everything was over, but he knew it was just the start.

***************

After the screams increased the people started to react; some just because they couldn't do anything else but obey their body, which lead them irrevocably to the dramatic scene; some came on purpose to satisfy their curiosity of what would cause screams like these; and some came to help.

They found him on the sixth floor near the portrait of Grimbor the Great (1), who had his hands over his ears. At first view, they all stopped, taking in the picture in front of them.

Harry's body was bent in an unhealthy angle, trembling extremely while he uttered one pained and tantalized scream after another. Where his clothes were pulled up, bruises and some smaller wounds were visible.

Finally, the first of the students moved, while others broke down in own cries. A seventh year Ravenclaw stunned Harry, so she could levitate him to the hospital wing. Despite the spell, Harry's body convulsed over and over again.

Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas stared transfixed after their dorm mate while he was hovered away.

"Go, fetch Ron and Hermione," Seamus said to his friend. "They should be in the common room. I'll follow them." He nodded in direction of the rather large group.

Dean nodded and made his way to the Gryffindor Tower while Seamus followed the others.

On the way down the group, let by the Ravenclaw who was levitating Harry, met with Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall, they didn't stop, though, but hurried further down to the infirmary.

Madam Pomfrey paled when her eyes fell on Harry's broken form. She motioned to the nearest bed and started instantaneously. McGonagall shooed everyone out and closed the doors.

The moment they cancelled the stunning spell Harry's screams filled the room, his body dangerously close to falling from the bed. Pomfrey conjured several broad leather belts to hold him down, fixing not only his arms and legs but also his torso.

"I am sorry to say that, but we have to wake him," Pomfrey said, trying to keep calm while the boy's wrist began to bleed. "Whatever is happening to him is too strong to keep it down with another spell."

Whilst Madam Pomfrey prepared several potions and other implements, Dumbledore directed his wand towards Harry and said one single, powerful word: Rennervate.

Harry woke immediately but was unable to control his breathing or trembling of his body. Pomfrey was by his side the same instant, emptying one bottle after the other into his throat. After they used about half of the calming draughts and pain-relief potions, Harry calmed enough for Pomfrey to check on him, although he still wasn't responsive.

The Headmaster and Professor McGonagall watched everything with worried expressions. The only sign that the limp form on the bed was alive were the flickers of Harry's eyelids every now and then, as if he would fight to let them stay open.

The more detailed Pomfrey scanned Harry the more she would mumble "Merlin" and "Poor boy" repeatedly while tears were coming to her eyes.

After what seemed like hours, she stepped away from the bed, an upset expression on her face. "Oh, Albus," was all she said, before collapsing into a chair next to the bed.

"Poppy, what is it?" the Headmaster asked. "What is happening to him?"

"I don't know how that's possible, but he was under various severe curses, among them the Cruciatus and a lot more I do not recognise. He also has several bruises and a light internal bleeding, which thankfully I could stop already. And as far as I can differentiate the symptoms, he also didn't sleep during the last five days, at least," the nurse ended, her brow furrowed in worry.

"Poppy, "Dumbledore asked gently, "is there something else?"

"Well, technically I already said it, he was under various curses, but… some of the curses aren't from today. I found some that were older than four weeks."

"Good gracious. Do you want to say someone has been torturing Mister Potter during the last weeks?" Professor McGonagall exclaimed incredulously.

"Minerva, please, calm down my dear," Dumbledore said soothingly. "Whatever happened to Harry, I'm sure we will find out. I think the best for now is to let him sleep. Do you agree, Poppy?"

The nurse nodded and both went back to Harry.

"Harry," Dumbledore asked tentatively, "can you hear me?"

The teenager's still pain filled green eyes wandered over to Dumbledore. "Headmaster?" he croaked.

"Yes, my boy, it's me. Do you know where you are?" Harry nodded.

"That's good. Listen. We are going to give you some Sleeping Potion so you can rest-"

The shocked eyes of the teenager made him stop. Harry stared at the Headmaster, shaking his head. "No, not that," he said, his voice was a painful whisper.

Dumbledore turned to Poppy questioningly.

"Perhaps the shock?" the nurse said. "He definitely needs to rest."

Hearing this Harry started to struggle, trying to get away from them.

"No! Oh god no!" he screamed, tears running down his face. "Please, Professor, don't do this to me, please," he begged, unable to form a coherent thought.

Dumbledore and Poppy didn't know any better than to stun him again before they forced the potion down Harry's throat.

With tears in his eyes and a lost look, Harry finally fell into a deep sleep.

When they were sure he was asleep, both adults stood up.

"I used an extra strong version of the potion," the nurse informed them, "so he will sleep until tomorrow morning."

"Thank you, Poppy," the Headmaster replied. He looked again at the young boy in the hospital bed. He couldn't forget the last look Harry had given him. He had seen pain and desperation in it and in the last moment, before Harry lost consciousness, he believed he even had seen betrayal. "I will be in my office," he said to the room. "Please call me if anything happens. Good night."

"Good night, Headmaster," Pomfrey said and then added, "Professor McGonagall," with a nod when McGonagall also turned, following the Headmaster out of the hospital wing.

Madam Pomfrey decided this was the best moment to go out and get some new Hellebore blossoms, as the moon was in his right phase, and she couldn't do anything right now for the boy. With a last glance over her new charge, she, too, left the hospital wing. The boy would be asleep for the whole night.

When Harry felt the stone floor underneath his knees, he was aware of the forlorn situation he was in, but it needed Malfoy's greeting for him to know he was doomed.

"Nice to have you back, Potter. I wasn't quite finished yet."

***************

**TBC...**

**(1) Grimbor the Great is the title of a song from the band Freternia. One part of the lyrics goes as follows: "You will find that dreams might be so real you can die; this is the work of Grimbor the great". While I don't like the song much, I think this line really fits well in here.**

**This was it, another chapter of Changing Twilight. I'm still thinking I'm poor at writing talk like that between Dumbledore, Ron and Hermione. I hope it was ok, though.**

**Thank you again for reading! Would it hurt to review?**


	5. Chapter 5: Trust, Truth and Torture

**Next chapter!**

**Many many thanks to Nibble-Ett and Lyra for their reviews and to Invisible Nick, roebubbles, Nejidragon, Stars-Eclipsed and bombay07 for putting me on their Alerts or Favourite Lists.**

** Enjoy!**

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**CHANGING TWILIGHT  
by severnaya**

**Chapter 5: Trust, Truth and Torture**

_I am pain  
I am the end, I am your wraith  
Nothing remains  
I'm the loss of hope and faith  
(Ayreon – Day Three: Pain)_

As the Headmaster and Professor McGonagall left the hospital wing, a group of anxious Gryffindors instantly surrounded them.

"Professor, is Harry all right?" Hermione started. "What happened to him?"

"You can relax, Miss Granger," the Headmaster said calmly. "However, he will be asleep for a while, so you better go to your common room. You may visit him tomorrow."

"But, Professor-" Ron complained.

"No, Mr Weasley, you will do as the Headmaster said," McGonagall interrupted the redhead strictly. "Now! We do not know exactly what happened, but we will soon. First Mr Potter needs to rest."

"We will inform you when he awakes," Dumbledore staved them off.

The Gryffindors all threw one last desperate look at the door but followed their Head of house to their common room.

While leading the students back to Gryffindor Tower, Professor McGonagall's thoughts went back to a short incident she had had several weeks ago. Potter hadn't looked well that day, and once he had stood up to leave the Transfiguration classroom, he had moved slowly and carefully. She had called out to him to stay behind.

"Are you injured, Mister Potter?" she had asked.

"No, I'm fine," the boy had denied quickly. Potter had seemed to sense that she hadn't /didn't believed him as he had started to mumble an explanation. "I, err, just got hit with a Bludger during Quidditch training," he had said, looking embarrassed.

She had believed him.

Thinking about it now, perhaps it wasn't embarrassment but worry somebody would find out. But if he really had been cursed that day by someone, why should the boy conceal something like that from people who could help him?

Sighing inwardly, she climbed another staircase. Once Potter awoke, they would get some answers, hopefully.

***************

The screams on the other side of the wall had started again a while ago, then they had faded and the only thing one could have heard was an irritated Lucius Malfoy. But now the screams had begun once more, this round ten times stronger.

Severus Snape sat huddled in his cell. He was cold and couldn't remember the last time he ate. Hearing the screams outside, he could only think of two things: _Please let the wall stay non-transparent_ and _Don't let it be Harry again_.

Harry.

At some point during the boy's tortures, the Potions master had started to think of him as Harry. The images burnt into his head just didn't match the image of the impudent brat he had loathed for so long anymore.

When the door to his cell opened, Severus lost his last hope. Too much time had passed for him to have any will left to fight. As before, a hooded figure stepped inside the small room.

Severus waited for the incantation, which caused the vanishing of the wall, but instead he heard the iron rings around his wrists and ankles click, followed by the sound of iron on stone.

The stranger motioned him to follow quietly. Once they left the direct area around the cells, the stranger motioned Severus to follow him into a small room, and after entering himself he closed the door and cast several Locking and Silencing Spells. He then removed his hood, revealing his platinum-blond hair.

"Draco?" Severus whispered.

"Yes, Severus, it's me. Listen, we don't have much time. All the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord are currently in the hall, a special guest or something. This is our only chance to escape. The corridor down to the left there is a large wardrobe, inside is a secret passageway that leads to a clearing from where we can Apparate. The only problem is we have to cross the entrance to the hall."

Severus just nodded numbly.

Draco handed his godfather a pair of the typical Death Eater robes, pulling his own hood up again. He removed the spells, and the two of them carefully walked down the corridor that was still filled with the echoes of the screams from the torture going on not that far away.

Draco hoped instantly that the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord were distracted enough with their current victim, he really didn't want to join them; the screams alone were enough.

They reached the large, open oak door of the hall and squeezed themselves against the wall. Cautiously, Draco peeked around the corner.

Two Death Eaters were just lifting their victim up to his knees and Draco drew back the moment he recognised the raven-haired boy.

His heart was pounding. "Merlin, Severus, they have Potter. We have to help him."

"No," Severus shook his head when his nightmares came true. "There is nothing we can do for him here." The idea, the Death Eaters might have caught Potter in real this time never occurred to him.

Draco looked incredulously at his godfather.

"Trust me, Draco. I'll explain later."

With that, the two sneaked past the door and down the hidden passageway.

***************

Back at Hogwarts, Severus sent Draco to the dungeons, much to his godson's disgust. He himself rushed to the Headmaster's office, his own weakness momentarily forgotten.

To say Professor Dumbledore was surprised to see his Potions master was an understatement, after all he only had left some minutes ago.

"Did you forget something, Severus?" the Headmaster asked with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Forget?" Severus seemed distressed. Only now, Dumbledore noticed the look of his Potions master.

"Merlin, Severus, what happened to you?"

Snape got rid of his little shock. "That doesn't matter now. Where's Harry?"

"Still in the hospital wing. Poppy gave him a potion so he will sleep until tomor-"

When Snape heard the world sleep, he turned around briskly and started down the stairs. Dumbledore, now really concerned due to the look on the Potions master's face and his outer appearances, followed.

A few corridors away from the hospital wing Dumbledore could hear the screams. His heart contracted. They dashed into the infirmary. The nurse was nowhere in sight. Severus rushed further to the screaming boy.

"We have to wake him, Albus!" he said, while trying to hold the squirming boy down. "Albus!"

The Headmaster didn't move, though. His eyes were fixed on the trembling form. It was one of the few times in his life when he felt utterly helpless.

A shriek behind them acknowledged the arrival of the nurse. Seeing Harry in agony again, she dropped the fresh herbs, hurrying over to help Severus.

"Wake him!" Severus commanded.

"We can't," she cried. "We used the strongest Sleeping Potion we have."

The Potions master stared at the two, his eyes showed a mixture of shock, disbelief and helplessness. "Then he's lost," he said ominously.

During the following hours, the three were silent witnesses of the torture Harry had to endure. They saw bruises forming all over his body; they saw the bones of his right leg break with an audible crack and saw his body trembling under various curses.

The only thing they could do was to treat him with some Healing Spells. They tried as much as possible to ease the pain the boy was in; but neither could they wake him nor give him any potions. Tears were running freely down their faces.

***************

Meanwhile, Draco sat on his bed and wondered what the hell was going on. _Why did Severus leave Potter with the Dark Lord? _It didn't make sense at all. He wanted to know what was happening.

Once they arrived at Hogwarts, his godfather had send him down here, taking off another possibility to get information, but something in Severus eyes urged him to follow his orders.

Nonetheless, he didn't have to like it.

***************

Harry couldn't fathom anything around him. There was only one thing he knew: pain; agonizing, excruciating pain. He didn't know if he was awake or not, didn't know if there was a difference at all between the two. It felt as if his mind was ripped from his body. Every cell was on fire and white-hot daggers seemed to penetrate his skin. The different kinds of pain searing through his body were mixing, creating a completely new kind of agony with ferocity, which ever so slowly cut his very being into pieces.

Lucius Malfoy was beyond rage and took it out on the boy in front of him with the encouragement of some of his fellow Death Eaters and the approval of the Dark Lord himself.

The last mentioned sat on his throne, watching the saviour of the light wither on the stone floor of the manor. Perhaps he couldn't kill the boy directly, but he definitely could break him; and his twisted mind enjoyed it immensely. The begging and pleading had stopped long ago, and now, the Boy Who Lived wasn't much more than a worn-out and useless shadow of his former self.

The Dark Lord's right-hand man had just sent several Killing Curses, once again eliciting pain-filled screams out of his victim. He then stepped behind the broken form and conjured a small dagger. With a firm grip on Potter's chin, Malfoy forced the boy into a sitting position, head far back. The boy's eyes were open, starring numbly at the ceiling. His mouth opened and closed in the futile try to get more air.

Lucius leant down and fixed the green eyes with his own, waiting until he was sure the boy recognised him. With a hateful glare and a fast movement, he dragged the dagger over Harry's throat from left to right, turning the grey stone floor into a dark crimson colour.

At Hogwarts, all three adults in the infirmary lost a little more hope when they saw Harry's throat cut open. Madam Pomfrey tried as much as she could to stop the bleeding and closing the wound. Finally, she sighed and sat down on the mattress, ignoring the blood that was soaking the previously pristine bed sheets.

They all waited pleadingly for the morning to come.

***************

That night there weren't many students who actually slept. Most of them sat in small groups in their common rooms. Even if they weren't friends with Harry Potter, he was still the Boy Who Lived; his fame and reputation never had vanished completely no matter what had happened before, at least they remembered it in a situation like now.

Worst of all were the Gryffindors and especially Harry's closer friends. Together they sat in front of the fire, seeking comfort in the warmth of the flames.

In the beginning, they had talked about possible happenings, but soon they had fallen into a discomforting silence. They knew they all were thinking about the same lines. If Harry would be okay; about what happened to him in the first place; when they could see him; or if they ever would see him alive again. However, even if they thought more or less the same, no one dared to speak these thoughts aloud/ out loud.

***************

When the early sun filled Hogwarts's hospital wing with its light, Harry had finally calmed down. He was still unconscious but didn't seem to suffer anymore.

McGonagall had joined Albus, Severus and Poppy again, after reassuring the students that everything was fine while professionally suppressing the details. When she entered the hospital wing, Severus was just explaining the Headmaster how the Dark Lord had captured him, weeks ago. The Headmaster had sent for the wrong Snape, certainly a Death Eater using Polyjuice Potion, but he couldn't be found. Snape then explained everything the Dark Lord had told him about Harry's visits but wouldn't describe the tortures he witnessed.

"It's okay, Severus, my boy," Dumbledore said reassuringly. After the last night he had more than one impression of how the other visits must have went. "Rest now. You, too, are injured."

Severus wanted to complain, but the last night had drained him of his remaining strength. He allowed the Headmaster to accompany him to the bed next to Harry and accepted some potions from Poppy, while his gaze never left the resting boy.

Dumbledore couldn't help but chuckle slightly, seeing his Potions master that protective about the Gryffindor.

His gaze went back to Harry and the amused smile on Dumbledore's face turned to a sad one. There was so much he didn't know, didn't even imagine. It seemed, the times when Harry came to him, telling him almost everything what occupied his thoughts, where definitely over.

***************

Harry lay in a coma for three days before awaking the first time. He wasn't responsive, nor was he aware of his surroundings. However, he was alive. His friends visited him every day, but his green eyes would just stare into nothingness. Thankfully, he now was responding to all Healing Spells and potions Poppy gave him.

It was on the fourth day, after they had found him in the corridor, that Harry woke entirely. He still was weak and didn't want to speak to anyone about what had happened. Oddly enough, he could remember everything, even the two times when Snape had sent him to Voldemort on purpose.

***************

At the same time, Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy were sitting in front of the Headmaster in his office.

"There is one last thing I like to know, Mister Malfoy," the Headmaster said. "How did you find out about Professor Snape in the first place?"

"Well, I…" Draco cheeks were getting a little rose at this question, much to the amusement of his godfather, "I was eavesdropping on my father during another Death Eater's visit."

"I guess this visit took place at Malfoy Manor?" Dumbledore asked, saying nothing about the eavesdropping part, though.

"Yes, sir."

"So you left the school grounds?"

"Yes, sir," Draco said again. He had overcome his previous little embarrassment, and now looked more confident. "My father wanted me home for…certain occasions."

Dumbledore looked intensely at Draco over his half-moon glasses.

"When did you find out?"

"Just the other night, sir. They were talking quite detailed about where Severus's cell was. I didn't want to waste time."

"And the hidden passageway you used?"

"I already knew about that for a long time," Draco answered. The edges of his mouth twitched slightly in a way what would have been a smile on anyone else. "My father showed it to me when I was a child."

"I see," was all the Headmaster said. "Well, I think this is all for now. Would you two be so kind and meet me at the hospital wing after lunch? I'd like you to be present when I am speaking with Mister Potter."

"Do I have to come?" Draco asked, not impolite.

"I would appreciate that, yes. According to what Severus told us," Dumbledore gave the man a nod, "Mister Potter believes him a loyal servant of Voldemort. I think it would be a good idea to have someone else, especially in the same age as Harry, to attest that Severus himself was a prisoner over that time."

Draco didn't believe this would work but agreed nevertheless. Perhaps the conversation would last a bit longer, and he could skip another class, Care of Magical Creature no less, which was his next class after lunch.

Draco and Severus said their goodbye to the Headmaster and went down to the dungeons. On the first floor, the Potions master finally broke the silence.

"On those certain occasions, were you talking about you becoming… you know," he said cryptically.

"Yes, my father wants me to," Draco said with an undefined mask on his face. Still, knowing his godson, Severus was sure to discern a tad sadness.

"Do you know when?"

"Not exactly. But soon."

After that, they continued their way in silence.

***************

Draco lay on one of the couches in the Slytherin common room. His housemates still had classes, so he was alone. It was now four days and several talks with his godfather and the Headmaster after Potter's, well, encounter with the Dark Lord, and he still didn't know what exactly had happened.

He had seen Potter while the Death Eaters tortured him in the Manor; Potter had been there. What Draco couldn't understand was how the idiot got there in the first place and how Dumbledore got the body back to Hogwarts. Severus must know something; otherwise, he wouldn't have let the Gryffindor there. When the rumours that Pansy had told him were right, it was Potter who had screamed the whole school down, providing him the perfect opportunity to sneak off the grounds. But how could he be at school while being tortured by the Dark Lord? Draco sighed exasperatedly; once again, it just didn't make sense at all.

***************

Lunch those days was a silent affair at the Gryffindor table, especially for the sixth years. They still hadn't received any news from Harry. They only knew he was awake, but the adults wouldn't tell them anything more; and as Harry apparently didn't want to see anyone, Madam Pomfrey didn't allow any more visits.

While the Gryffindors waited for the food to appear, Malfoy entered the Great Hall, obviously in deep thoughts. Ron was the first who noticed the abnormal behaviour of the Slytherin and became suspicious the same instant.

"Something's going on," he said conspiratorially. "Look at Malfoy."

Hermione and Ginny followed Ron's eyes over to the other table.

"He wasn't in class today," Hermione added matter-of-factly.

During lunch, the three of them watched Malfoy every now and then. Finally, Ginny motioned to the head table, where Dumbledore was about to leave. Silently the Gryffindors watched the Headmaster motioning first to Professor Snape and than to Malfoy to follow him out of the hall. Both Slytherins were on their feet instantly, leaving without another comment.

***************

The three men arrived at the hospital wing minutes later. First Dumbledore went in alone to see if Harry was awake and at least a bit willing to talk. Moments later the door opened again and Dumbledore waved the other two in.

When Harry saw Snape enter the room, he only needed some seconds to overcome his shock before he went berserk.

"How can you bring HIM here, Professor?" he yelled. "He should be in Azkaban, or better dead!"

Dumbledore and Poppy both tried to calm Harry down, which was a little complicated, as Harry wouldn't stop with his tirades. All present were sure that if the Gryffindor wouldn't still be injured, he would have gone for the man's throat a long time ago. However, at one point they weren't sure if Harry would start with Snape or the Headmaster.

"How can you be such an idiot to trust him?!" Harry roared. Draco wasn't sure if he should think of Potter as brave or a complete dunderhead calling the Headmaster an idiot. However, it had a certain style.

"Harry, "Dumbledore tried again, "the person you saw there was not Professor Snape but a Death Eater using Polyjuice, Professor Snape was a prisoner himself."

"Do you want me to believe that?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Mister Malfoy can vouch for that."

Draco, who had begun to question why he was there, nodded fiercely. "I myself freed him, at the same time you were-"

"And you think I believe a Malfoy? They are even worse than him!" Potter's voice was filled with disgust.

Draco clenched his fists. "Don't you dare compare me with my father!" His voice had become louder with every word, until he screamed the last one in distaste, and Snape had to hold him in order that the two boys wouldn't start a fight. "I'm not a Death Eater!" With that, Draco freed himself from his godfather's grip and stormed out of the infirmary.

For a moment Harry was stunned. Never in his life had he thought to see Draco Malfoy like that. It wasn't the Death Eater part, though, but the fact that he lost control over his actions, screaming and storming out of a room, eventually.

Nonetheless, it only needed Dumbledore's next comment to wake his rage again.

"That really was not necessary, Harry. Mister Malfoy only confirmed that it was not Professor Snape who tortured you."

"Do you believe him more than me?" Harry yelled again at Dumbledore. "Besides, it wasn't only the torture there! He gave me that damn potion!"

Dumbledore looked quizzically at Snape who just shrugged with his shoulders.

"What are you talking about, Harry? What potion?"

"The potion that let the wounds stay!"

The two professors tried to get more out of Harry, but he flatly refused to speak with them anymore.

"If you choose his words over mine, Professor, than I don't have anything to tell you," was all they got.

Capitulating, the two left the room. Once outside Dumbledore sighed.

"Well, I think that went wrong," the Potions master beside him said dryly.

***************

**TBC**

**Well, as always I hope you liked this chapter. The last scene was fun to write^^, don't know why.**

**Does anyone of you have an idea how to name a snake or a snake species?**

**I wish all of you a merry christmas, yule or what ever you like to call it and a happy new year in advance if I shouldn't be able to update before. To those, who doesn't celebrate these days: Just have a nice time and enjoy yourself ;-)**

**See you soon. Severnaya**


	6. Chapter 6: Gifts from Old Voldie

**Hello everyone! I am sorry this took me so long. I had to finish an assignment and hadn't had time for anything else. Thanks to VeltaIO, Storm's Only Rider and crazybibliophile for putting me on your lists; I am always happy to get a feedback if people like this story. Here you go:**

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**CHANGING TWILIGHT  
by severnaya**

**Chapter 6: Gifts from Old Voldie**

_If you are down,  
I will come to chain you to the ground  
and penetrate your mind.  
If you are lost,  
I'll be there to break your trust  
and ravage all your lust for life.  
(Sirenia – My Mind's Eye)_

When Harry joined classes again, his friends watched him with concern. He secluded himself even more than before, and as soon as they tried to speak with him about what had happened, he would leave the room, no matter where they were, as they had to experience during a class of Transfiguration.

The only clear fact was that Harry's hate towards the Potions master had increased tenfold; which must have come with a reason. The whole situation was extremely suspicious if one would have asked the Gryffindors, but nobody did. Furthermore, both Snape and Malfoy seemed to be in trouble for something. What else could be the reason of Malfoy missing classes the other day and their private meeting with the Headmaster, to which both left with a serious expression on their faces?

The Gryffindors were sure the two had something to do with Harry's "attack", as they called it now. The fact of Snape and Malfoy being Slytherins with connections to You-Know-Who, and therefore were being rotten to the core, only made them even more suspicious, despite the greasy git's so-called work for the Order.

***************

The days past by without many changes.

Dumbledore and several staff as well as some order members had done research now for almost five days but still couldn't find anything that would help Harry. Based on no alternatives, they went on with Harry's first plan: keep him awake.

Dumbledore had called Ron, Hermione and Ginny to tell them that Harry's health would be in danger if he were to fall asleep. For Hermione that sounded more than strange, but as neither the Headmaster nor Harry nor anybody else would tell them more, they stayed with the plan.

Pepper-Up potion would only work another two days. After that, they settled on a spell Professor Snape had found, carefully not mentioning that fact. The _Somnia Simulare_ spell would lead Harry's body to believe that he had slept. It wasn't an everlasting solution, but it would work for some time.

As Harry still wasn't on speaking terms with Professor Dumbledore, McGonagall spoke the spell twice a day. It took Harry only another day to blackmail his head of house to teach him the spell, so he would be able to use it on his own.

Unfortunately, Harry already was sleep-deprived to an amount that the spell wouldn't work properly. If he had thought his life was hell before, then he had been as wrong as he could have been.

Again, he lost his appetite and his magic grew weaker from day to day. In addition, it started to oscillate. At one moment, he wasn't able to cast a Lumos and the next people around him would have to run if they didn't want to be catapulted through the air. Harry tried to control it as good as he could, but it frustrated him to no end.

He failed miserably in Transfiguration and Charms and had to be excluded from Potion class, as he tried to hex the professor repeatedly. Every now and then, he almost fell asleep in class, and only his friends waking him prevented another trip to dear snake-face.

Every second day he had to visit Madam Pomfrey to let her check him. Each visit would go the same way, with Harry sitting annoyed at one of the beds and Pomfrey casting several spells while talking to him non-stop in a faked happy and soothing voice, annoying Harry even more.

***************

Meanwhile, Draco Malfoy was getting obsessed to solve the riddle, which surrounded Potter. The Professors still hadn't told him any more than before, and he doubted they would. But in contrary to the Gryffindors, he had seen and heard certain things while being present. He didn't know much, but at least he knew more than they did.

His obsession even replaced the anger he had felt for Potter before. Once again, he began to observe Potter; but this time it didn't go unnoticed by the other Gryffindors, increasing their suspicions.

***************

It had become December, and the first sunlight once again heralded another sunny and cold winter day.

Harry stepped out of the shower and used a towel to dry himself. He dressed and was just about to reach for his t-shirt, when he saw his reflection in the mirror. In a slightly different colour than the rest of his skin, a small line coiled around his neck where Malfoy had cut him with the dagger.

Madam Pomfrey couldn't heal it in hindsight and hadn't been able to administer the potion and salve necessary to avoid a scar at the very moment of the cut.

For the second time in his life, he was marked.

Some hours later, Harry and his classmates endured another boring class of History of Magic. Professor Binns's drawling and monotonous voice filled the classroom, the pitch of his voice never shifting.

Harry stared out of the window, hardly listening. His head propped on his hand. He was tired. By now he needed the _Somnia Simulare_ spell three times a day. Harry didn't care if there were any side effects or if you could overdose the spell, as long as he was awake he was safe and nothing grave could happen. For this security, he gladly would risk his health. After all, his control of his magic had increased a bit, even though he couldn't really be happy about that, so the spell couldn't be that harming, couldn't it? Nonetheless, at the very moment he just felt tired and weak. His eyelids were getting heavier, and the voice of the professor felt more like a lullaby than anything else.

Harry's friends didn't notice that something was wrong until Harry's arm dropped to the side, letting his head fall from his hand. Immediately, Ron started to shake his friend, clearly hearing Dumbledore's warning words.

"Wake up, mate!" he said frantically. "Come on!" But Harry's head only rolled from one side to the other.

"Professor!" Hermione called, knowing that Dumbledore also had informed the staff about Harry's conditions.

Nevertheless, the professor didn't really seem to know what to do.

With panic arising inside him, Ron hit Harry with the first spell that came to his mind.

Harry woke with a start, breathing heavily, grabbing his left shoulder where the spell had hit him. "God, are you insane?" It was obvious that the spell had hurt him.

Before anyone could do something, Harry stood and left the classroom with a small, "Excuse me", on his lips.

"You're not allowed to go alone," Hermione called after him, a rule the Headmaster came up with that very morning, of course only to help and protect Harry.

"I'll go," Malfoy said, jumping on the chance to get to Potter and left the room before anyone could stop him.

Ron and Hermione stared at the closed door and then at one another. Only seconds later, both stood up too, racing after Harry and Malfoy.

"Where are they?" Ron exclaimed after they had searched the corridors near the classroom.

"By now they could be everywhere. We should have followed them immediately!"

Ron looked at his friend; he had had the impression they had followed immediately, but apparently, Hermione didn't think that way.

***************

Draco saw Harry vanish behind a tapestry and followed him quickly, wondering how many secret passageways Potter knew. He stood in a small pitch-black passage, just wide enough to not bump your shoulders.

"Lumos," Draco said before making his way forwards. Some minutes later, he left the passage and found himself in another corridor. He glanced around but couldn't see a sight of Potter.

_Damn,_ he thought, and breathed out, frustrated. He wondered why Potter wasn't allowed to sleep, a fact, Draco found rather obvious.

With another glance, he left the corridor. He would find out, one way or another. If he had turned around one last time, he probably would have seen the pair of green eyes watching his retreat.

Harry watched Malfoy's back, until the Slytherin turned around a corner, before concealing again in his hiding spot. Malfoy's behaviour really was strange lately.

Slowly, he slid down the wall, until he sat on the stone floor, with his back resting on the wall. He wasn't sure what was worse, Voldemort's torture or the lack of sleep his friends put him through; but he couldn't blame them.

Fatigue overcame him once again, he would have to cast the spell again… in a moment… unknowingly he closed his eyes, falling asleep the same instant.

***************

Harry could hardly believe his luck.

He had escaped his friends a while ago and had been hiding in one of the secret passageways he had found during his nightly trips. He must have fallen asleep at one time, because once again he was in the large grey hall.

And he was alone!

He didn't try the door this time. The chance to call attention to him was too big, and he really didn't want that. He would prefer death to another torture.

Hence, he sat behind the throne on the floor, waiting to get back to his body.

Some yards away, a stone at the bottom of the wall glided away, and Harry could see Nagini moving into the room. When the snake noticed Harry sitting at the floor, she came nearer.

/You are back/ she stated.

/Yes, I am/ Harry said. It was weird, but somehow he was glad to see the snake. In an odd way, he started to like her, despite the danger of being found by Voldemort. Everything felt so unimportant and easy when she was near. All his problems just faded away. Almost.

/Do you know if your master will be back soon?/ he asked.

/I do not think so/ she hissed. /You do not like him/ Another statement.

Harry grinned. /No, not particular./

/Why?/

/He hurt persons I care for and me,/ was Harry's response.

Instead of saying something, Nagini came even nearer and rolled up beside him.

/Do you like him?/ Harry asked after a while.

The snake really seemed to think about that. /I do not know,/ she said eventually. /He gives me a warm place. He cares for me./

/But he also uses you./

/True,/ was all Nagini said.

/Would you abandon him if you could?/ Harry didn't know why he had asked that.

Nagini watched him closely. /I do not have a choice in that,/ she hissed, /he is me and I am he./

Now it was Harry's part to watch Nagini. He knew that Voldemort somehow bonded her; otherwise, it wouldn't have been possible that he had seen through her eyes. He sighed. Neither of them spoke again.

Finally, Harry felt how he was pulled back into his body.

***************

In the afternoon, Harry sat on a stone near the lake; his scarf wrapped tightly around his neck. It had become cold outside. The trees had lost all their leaves and the sky was already turning from a light winter blue to the darker shades of dusk. Harry breathed the chilly, clear air, leaving a little cloud when breathing out again. He liked the cold, it helped to concentrate and clear your thoughts.

His friends, though, who finally had found him, didn't seem to like the weather in the same way. Ron and Hermione sat closely side by side, and a while ago Ron had started to rub his hands together and every now and then tried to warm then with his breath. Finally, Hermione sighed and got up.

"It's too cold here," she said, "if we're sitting here any longer we will get a cold. Let's go inside."

Ron agreed immediately and stood up, but Harry didn't move a bit.

"Don't you want to come in, too?" Hermione asked, a little concern in her voice.

Harry gave her a small smile. "No, thanks Hermione, I'll stay a little longer." With that, he turned his eyes back to the freezing landscape, leaving his friends at a loss.

The two of them resignedly walked back to the castle. Both didn't know how to cope with the situation and Harry's continually growing desire for being alone. Everything was so different from before.

***************

After a short while, the sleep deprivation again evoked Harry's moodiness. Fellow students and professors equally had to suffer under a newfound arrogance.

Harry carried anger with him he didn't know he had. Anger for all and everything. Even anger for the anger itself.

Harry wasn't sure why he couldn't escape the feeling that something was wrong, inside of him; that something had changed. He wasn't sure what had changed, but sometimes he felt just not like himself. Or just like a different self? He was confused.

There were moments when he sat with his friends in a comfortable round, and a minute later he asked himself why he was with them and not with those who had power.

There where moments when he was happy with being ignored, and a moment later a voice inside him cried out for attention. A voice that wanted others to look at him admiringly and respectfully, even fearful was all right.

Those feelings felt real but at the same time not. Harry just didn't know what to do with them, and he was also lacking the power and will to do something.

***************

One day, Harry went through the corridors with Ginny by his side, but he ignored her completely. They were passing a group of Ravenclaws, when Harry heard his name.

"… they should expel him or sent him to St. Mungos," a boy said, "but you can't do that to Saint Potter. He has Dumbledore twisted around his little finger, I tell you, and this so called attack, hah!"

"I don't know," a younger girl said, "that attack looked rather unpleasant."

"I would bet it was a fake; he just wants attention."

Harry had stopped, listening to the conversation. The boy, who Harry recognised as Jeremy Wilson, a fifth year, hadn't noticed him yet. Slowly, he moved forward.

"If I were you, Wilson, I wouldn't speak of things you have no notion of."

The students around them went still, all watching Harry pressing his wand into the other's neck.

"Harry, just let us go, okay?" Ginny pleaded quietly.

"But I don't want to go," Harry said in a low voice, his eyes danced madly. He knew he shouldn't rise to the bait, but he just couldn't ignore this insult. Someone had to show them how to behave.

No one in the corridor moved, instead they watched Harry warily. Slowly the Ravenclaw boy turned around, constantly feeling Potter's wand at his throat. He gulped uncomfortably, while he felt the wand pressing into his flesh. Potter looked nothing but dangerous.

"Somebody do something," he stuttered, forgetting his own wand. An older girl stepped forward, directing her wand at Potter, but stopped dead when his eyes met hers. The expression on his face instantly halted any movements. Her wand fell to the floor, the sound of wood hitting stone too loud in the silent corridor. Unconsciously, she and her housemates stepped backwards. Harry smiled.

"Harry…" Ginny tried again and couldn't stop the feeling of fear, which tried to build inside her while watching Harry behaving like this.

Harry, once again ignoring the people around him, locked his eyes with Wilson again. The boy trembled. _How pathetic._

"So, Jeremy," he hissed, "do you know how it feels being surrounded by a group of Death Eaters who just wait to get their turn? Do you know how it feels to be at the mercy of Voldemort himself?" With satisfaction, Harry watched the tremble of the other boy increasing. "Do you know how it feels when someone cuts your flesh, slowly, appreciatively, and then casts _Cruciatus_ on you, holding it up until you don't know anymore if you're hearing your own blood rushing through your veins or the humming of the spell?"

Fear was now clearly visible in the other boy's face, and still no one moved.

"I could show you how it feels, Jeremy," Harry hissed again, stepping nearer to the Ravenclaw.

"I take this was not a threat using an Unforgivable in school, Mr Potter," a dark voice said behind them.

Harry breathed out and then turned slowly to face the Potions master.

"Ahh, sure you would know about this," Harry drawled, "with all the experience you have, Professor."

Harry had spat the last word, and the other students were well aware of the hate radiating from him.

"I think you should go now, Mr Potter," Snape said. Besides feeling relieve, some students looked surprised, as the Professor seemed to let Potter go without punishment.

"Don't you dare telling me what to do you Dea-"

"What is going on here?" another voice stopped him from speaking out the words.

Seeing Dumbledore and McGonagall approaching them, Harry put down his wand, which by now had been directed at Snape, and hid it from their views.

"Severus?" the Headmaster asked, letting his eyes wander over the group of students.

"I think we should talk in your office, Albus," Snape said, hiding his ire expertedly. "Mr Potter, you wanted to leave if I'm not mistaken."

Harry glared at him again but then turned around. He knew when a fight was lost. As polite as possible he nodded to Dumbledore and McGonagall and then left. Ginny hesitated only a moment before running after him, but when she turned around the corner, Harry was nowhere in sight.

***************

Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape went to Dumbledore's office in silence. Once they were all sitting around the Headmaster's table, with a cup of tea each, Dumbledore looked at Snape expectantly.

"Well, Severus? What happened down there?"

"It seems, as if Mr Potter just threatened a fellow student with a _Cruciatus_, Albus. I heard it clear and plain."

"He would never do that!" McGonagall exclaimed.

Dumbledore looked thoughtful. "Are you sure, Severus? I, too, find it difficult to believe."

"Yes I am sure, Albus, my hearing is still very good," Snape said but then paused a moment and the last bit of anger vanished somewhere in the depths of his soul. "I myself wouldn't believe it, if I hadn't heard it directly," he continued far more gentle than before, "especially after all what happened to him …"

The office was silent for a while.

"Perhaps it's just the stress?" McGonagall finally offered quietly.

"What ever it is, we can't allow a student threatening another with the Unforgivables, Minerva," Snape said sternly.

Dumbledore sighed. "Would you let me speak with Severus alone, Minerva? I'll go to see you later."

McGonagall didn't seem to like the idea, but with a short, "Sure, Albus", she left nevertheless.

"Albus?" Snape looked at the older man questioningly.

"I will be honest with you, Severus," the Headmaster said, sounding old. "I have no idea what to do with Harry. He still doesn't want to speak with anyone about what happened, but I am sure it's tearing him apart on the inside. I wouldn't wonder if his late behaviour is just a way to get rid of his feelings."

Snape remained silent. He didn't care about the boy, no he didn't. He couldn't hate him anymore, and he was sure no one could live with these experiences without cracking one day, but the boy's behaviour towards him didn't exactly facilitate the whole thing of regarding him as anything else then an impudent brat, albeit an abused one.

"I'd like to ask you a favour," the Headmaster went on.

_That doesn't sound good,_ Snape thought.

"Talk to him, Severus. You are the only one who can even try to understand him."

He sounded pleading, and Severus cursed inwardly, he couldn't deny the Headmaster anything when he sounded like that.

"I'm not sure if that will work, Albus. The boy hates me, now even more than before."

"Just try it, all right?"

Snape nodded defeated.

***************

After the incident, Harry was hiding in one of the secret passages. It was pathetic, he knew it, but he couldn't bring himself to face other students right now. Surely, the entire Hogwarts population would know the whole story by now. He could hear the students going down to the Great Hall, but he stayed where he was. It wasn't much later that Harry noticed the slight laughter… inside of his head, and then:

"_Harry…"_

It was a mere whisper, but it was enough to make Harry's skin crawl.

"_Haaaarry…"_

It needed the second call until Harry knew what was so disturbing at this voice. It wasn't the voice itself, but the language the voice used: not English, no, Parseltongue.

Panic rose inside of Harry when he understood what this meant.

"_Oh, is the Saviour afraid?"_ Voldemort said mockingly in Harry's head.

_Get the fuck out of my mind!_ Harry yelled mentally, trying to banish the other wizard out of his head, but he didn't know how.

Voldemort laughed. _"You are mine, Potter,"_ he said confidently and Harry could feel his scar starting to hurt due to Voldemort's happiness.

Using his new anger, Harry mustered up everything he had, throwing it against his enemy.

Voldemort laughed again, but after a last "_Mine!"_ his presence vanished, leaving a panting and scared Harry Potter behind.

***************

At dinner some days later, Dumbledore fixed Harry with his eyes. Something was terribly wrong with the boy, but every time the Headmaster thought he knew what it was, it slipped between his fingers, leaving him in the dark. However, a part of Harry's manners reminded him inevitably of a former student with equally raven hair.

Several staff members already complained about him and his disrespectful and insolent behaviour, but Dumbledore wasn't ready to think this any further. Then again, last year Tom had managed to manipulate Harry and even obsessed him during the final battle at the ministry.

Harry was weak momentarily, both in body and mind, everyone could see that. Sometimes Dumbledore saw him starring into nothingness with nothing more in his eyes than forlornness. They still hadn't found anything to stop his encounters with Voldemort, and each day Dumbledore could see Harry breaking a bit more, drifting further away.

***************

**TBC**

**I hope you liked it. Please review!**


	7. Chapter 7: New Alliances

**A/N: As always: Thanks to all those who read this, and a special thanks to those who reviewed.**

**CHANGING TWILIGHT  
by severnaya**

**Chapter 7: New Alliances**

_I cannot leave here, I cannot stay,  
forever haunted, more than afraid.  
(A.F.I. – This time imperfect)_

So the day ultimately had come; the day, which would change his life more than anything else ever could; the day his father had raised him for; the day, he would surrender himself, handing his life over to the Dark Lord; the day he would become a Death Eater.

Draco Malfoy didn't feel happy nor did he feel sad about this. In fact, he didn't feel anything at all anymore. In the sixteen years of his life, he had learned that there wasn't a way to rebel against this fate. He had tried cautiously but in vain. The moment he would refuse to serve would be his dying day, and he wasn't ready to give up his life completely.

Nevertheless, as he followed his father through the dark corridors of the Manor, it seemed a bit like he would walk to his own execution. He knew he should be stronger, that he should fight back; but there was this desperate wish to live, no matter what he would have to do for it. Besides, where should he go once he would have abandoned his family and the Dark Lord? There was no place to hide, and the so called Light Side would never accept him, neither would he them. _Damn it!_ He would just have to receive the mark, pretending to serve the Dark Lord. Being a Death Eater didn't mean he had to agree with everything, at least not to himself, there would be still possibilities to hold on to his beliefs. At least he hoped so.

They reached the throne hall where several Death Eaters were already assembled. _Throne hall, ha, as if the Dark Lord was a king or something._

With a blank expression, Draco followed his father right to the front, sealing his mind. Severus had taught him a lot during the last years, but he rarely had used it until now. This was the moment where they would see how good Draco was in Occlumency. Draco knelt down in front of the Dark Lord, his eyes to the floor. "My Lord."

The Dark Lord bent over, his red eyes fixed firmly on the boy in front of him. He was young, but that was one of his worst enemies too, and being the son of Lucius Malfoy wasn't anything.

"Look at me, young Malfoy," he demanded.

Draco raised his head, locking his eyes with the red ones, trying to imagine what he would have thought if this situation had taken place some time ago.

The Dark Lord intruded Draco's mind, and Lucius watched with some concern as his Lord frowned slightly. Eventually, he broke eye contact, leaving Draco to once again look at the floor.

"You have doubts," the Dark Lord stated, and for a moment Draco thought he was caught, but then the Dark Lord went on, "doubts if you are able to fulfil my wishes. I wondered about that too. Lets see…"

The Dark Lord was just about to find a suitable way for Malfoy to proof his allegiances and abilities, when he felt another presence in the room. A sardonic smile spread out on his barely existing lips.

A few motions and orders later, two Death Eaters hauled no one less than Harry Potter in front of the Dark Lord. For a moment, he glared at him, red and green eyes fighting a silent battle, but then the look in Potter's eyes changed to forlornness and almost acceptance, knowing exactly what would come.

Draco stared at the boy beside him and had to fight to maintain his emotionless mask. Why was Potter here, again?

"How about some rounds of torture, young Malfoy," the Dark Lord interrupted his thoughts, fixing his eyes on the Slytherin. "Show us what you have learned. It shouldn't be that hard."

Draco turned to face the Gryffindor. Potter just knelt there. He didn't fight, he didn't try to escape; he just knelt there with this indifferent look in his eyes. Draco wasn't sure if Potter had just given up or if he had accepted the fate, knowing it would be pointless even to try to avoid the inevitable.

Draco placed one hand under Potter's chin, lifting his face up. His silver-grey eyes met green, and there it was. Behind the apparent capitulation and the memories of pain, Draco saw the still existing will of Harry Potter. The will and courage to withstand every torture, to hold on to his beliefs as long as there was some kind of hope left. His eyes spoke of temporarily acceptance not defeat.

Draco gulped. He couldn't tear apart from those green orbs, looking almost questioningly at him. Perhaps there was still hope, even for him.

When he heard the Dark Lord commanding him to start, he made a decision. His other hand shot forward, gripping Potter's arm firmly. The next second both disappeared, leaving shocked Death Eaters and a furious Dark Lord behind.

Draco was right; this day definitely would change his life.

***************

The two boys reappeared near the entrance to Hogwarts. The instant he could feel ground again under his feet, Harry stood up rudely, breaking the contact between the two of them.

"What the-" he began, but stopped himself immediately. God, he was angry! He was furious with Malfoy for saving him! How skewed was this?

But Harry couldn't help it, the anger grew every second, parallel to the pain in his scar. Without another word, he turned around and walked briskly up to the castle.

Draco stared after Potter's retreating form, feeling his Malfoy pride cracking. _What the hell!_ _What was that about?_ Potter almost looked angry with his eyes burning dangerously, nearly like those of the Dark Lord could.

Well, that definitely didn't turn out how he had thought.

***************

After classes the next day, Draco Malfoy was wandering through a deserted hallway. He needed space alone to think and to comprehend what he really had done the day ago. He understood the sheer magnitude of his decision, but if truth be told still wasn't aware of it completely.

Only yesterday night, he got a letter from his father promising pain and a serious conversation in the not too distant future. His father wasn't about threatening him openly, Draco not only demeaned him, but also let down his whole family. However, everything Lucius could do to him could only be pleasant in comparison to what the Dark Lord would do once he got his hands on him. One didn't just betray the Dark Lord and lived on as if nothing had happened.

In retrospect, Draco didn't know what made him think he could get away with this. He must have been completely mental!

He certainly hadn't thought of the other Death Eaters' children in Slytherin and the other houses when he Apparated away with Potter. They wouldn't act openly but Draco knew that even Hogwarts wasn't really safe anymore, not for him.

Well, perhaps Severus could give him some advice. After all, they were more or less in the same position now.

In that moment, he heard footsteps behind him and then a voice he would recognize everywhere.

"Malfoy!"

***************

During the whole day, Harry had watched Malfoy, trying to figure out the blond Slytherin. He, kind of, saved his life, and Harry was aware of what situation the other boy must be in now, especially considering whom he denied, but it was still Draco Malfoy. It just didn't fit. What in the nine levels of hell urged Malfoy, of all things, to rescue him directly in front of Voldemort?

It wasn't only that Harry didn't understand Malfoy's reasons but rather his own behaviour once they were save. He didn't even thank him.

After the last class, and after hours of pondering what to say, Harry followed Malfoy through the old corridors without attracting attention, thankful of his new knowledge of several secret passageways and short cuts. Once he was sure they were alone, he stepped out of his last hideout and called him.

"Malfoy!"

***************

Malfoy turned around, staring into the emerald eyes of Potter. For a moment, they both stood there, watching each other without a word.

At first sight Potter seemed quite his usual self, but Draco knew his long-time rival well enough to notice and understand the small signs, which could tell the careful observer a lot more about the Boy Who Lived than he would let anyone know intentionally. His abilities to hide his true feelings and intentions had increased lately, but he still was far away to match a master of masks, like a Malfoy. Behind the calm surface, Draco knew, Potter wasn't calm at all.

Under the composed and stern grey eyes, Harry became even tenser than he already was. _Damn, no matter what he did, this is still Draco Malfoy! _ _Where is hate and self-control when you need it?_

"I…" Harry finally began, letting his eyes wander to the floor. Everything he previously thought of already forgotten. "I wanted to thank you for, uh, for getting me out of there, and…" he gulped, eyes darting back to the boy in front of him, "apologize for how I treated you afterwards. I wasn't quite myself." He almost laughed mentally at this.

Malfoy didn't say anything even though Harry looked at him expectantly. The latter began feeling rather stupid, standing there like a first year, licking his lips nervously.

"Well, so, uh, thank you and I'm sorry," he babbled when he was sure Malfoy wouldn't answer. Then he turned around, even forgetting that he wanted to ask Malfoy why he did it but willing to leave the place as quickly as possible, before humiliation could strike even stronger than now.

Draco stared at Potter's retreating back. Normally, he would have taunted the Gryffindor but recent events and the still present haunted look prevented him from doing so. Instead, he called after him.

"Potter!"

The raven-haired turned again, and the not so golden boy of Gryffindor and the soon to be ex Slytherin Prince once again looked at each other as they did hundredths of times before and yet something was different.

"How often?" Draco eventually mouthed the question, which was burning in his mind.

Now it was Harry's part not to answer but the sad, almost desperate, look in his eyes were enough for Draco.

There they were. Former enemies; two counterparts like black and white, Light and Dark; born at the wrong time and the wrong place; unsure of how to go on now.

***************

**TBC**

**A/N: **

**Please forgive me for letting you wait and for the length of this chapter. I know its rather short. I told you before there would come a very short chapter. It was just the best place to stop.**

**I don't like to say it and I suppose you don't like to read it, but I guess the next updates will take several weeks as well. I have some ideas but difficulties to get there, and I don't want to rush and then take chapters out again to change them afterwards as I don't like that at all. I hope you will understand. I'm doing my best and believe me, I want to write and get the story on.**

**I'm thankful and happy about every review so take the time you would have spent reading if this was longer to write me something ;-) I will answer to everyone.**

**See you soon hopefully**

**Sev**


	8. Chapter 8: Mind Control

**A/N: Sorry it took me a little bit longer than normal, but my birthday was last week and I had to organize a party and everything - quite stressful, but I had no choice, if you know what I mean ;-)**

**As usual thanks to all those who read Changing Twilight, this time especially to re-used (and sorry again =___="").**

**Well, the noose is slowly tightening... Enjoy reading!**

**

* * *

  
**

**CHANGING TWILIGHT  
by severnaya**

**Chapter 8: Mind Control**

_Blurring and stirring – the truth and the lies  
So I don't know what's real and what's not  
Always confusing the thoughts in my head  
So I can't trust myself anymore.  
(Evanescence – Going under)_

The next day was warmer than the ones before and many students were outside. Harry was sitting alone near the lake once again, trying to find a way out of his misery, when the misery exposed itself once again.

"_You know, you should really work on your mental defence, Potter,"_ Voldemort's voice sounded inside Harry's head. _"Your powers are underdeveloped to such an extend. It's indeed a miracle how you could fight me that often and still be alive. But as we could witness recently, you just have an incredible amount of luck."_

"_Fuck you," _Harry thought.

"_Oh, oh, where are your manners? You know, I could let you kill one of your friends if you don't show the decent respect. However, I'm generous today and give you a choice. Who do you like to relinquish first?"_

Harry stared at the lake, certainly Voldemort couldn't-

"_You don't believe me. How mean. Shall I show you what I can do? How about a Cruciatus on that little Hufflepuff over there?"_

Harry now stared at the small boy, probably a first year, and horror clutched him. _How…?_

His horror strengthened when he saw his arm moving up, holding his wand in his hand and pointing it at the boy.

_God, no!_ fdgdbbjvjn

Once again he gathered all the strength he had, which he had to admit wasn't much, as his body was growing weaker day by day. Fortunately, Voldemort seemed to rethink his plan, as his power over Harry diminished.

Trembling and almost crying, Harry slumped down. This was too much; he couldn't take it anymore, not with the pain and despair he already was in. There was no other possibility; he needed help.

"_Ah, and Potter," _Voldemort's voice was there once again, as if he had read his mind, _"you won't talk about this to anyone, not even your reflection; otherwise I won't only catch you, but your friends will die slowly and painfully; just because of you. And don't even hope for Dumbledore's Legilimency; you will stay away from him!"_

Harry didn't answer.

***************

Absent-mindedly, Harry walked back to the castle. He was scared, bloody fucking scared! And desperate. He just felt sick. The _Somnia Simulare_ spell still didn't work as promised, it rather lost its effect every day a bit more, making the fight against sleep deprivation and his body's demands even harder.

It wasn't only that he would travel to Voldemort every bloody time he fell asleep, being at his mercy and forced to endure torture, which definitely already would have killed him in normal circumstances, no, now this bastard even could control him, and if just for a short time. Who knew what would happen if Harry grew weaker.

He walked through the corridors, not really noticing his surroundings until he ran against someone.

It looked like the other person also had been deep in thoughts, as they both landed on the floor. When Harry looked up, his eyes met the grey ones of Draco Malfoy. It seemed this became routine to them.

"Are you okay?" he asked the Slytherin without further thinking, while he was standing up.

"Yeah, I'm fine," was the response. Draco seemed a bit surprised that Harry had asked, and even more when Harry reached out his hand to help him up. Draco took it, though.

While Harry looked at Malfoy realisation hit him. Eventually he was sure to understand what was different now. The two of them shared a secret, a secret only they knew.

Harry wanted to say something but someone calling his name distracted him. Ron and Hermione were hurrying towards them.

Harry felt how Draco quickly let go of his hand, which he still had been holding, and started to wiping off non-existing dust from his robes.

"Harry, you're all right?" Hermione asked with concern, while shooting glances at Malfoy that spoke clearly of pain should he have done anything to Harry.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry said, unconsciously repeating Draco's earlier answer. "We just ran into each other." He felt oddly awkward, standing there between Draco, Ron and Hermione; although none of the others seemed to notice it.

"Well, than let's go," Ron said and with that, Harry's friends almost dragged him away from the Slytherin.

Harry glanced back over his shoulder. Malfoy looked lost. Maybe Harry felt lonely and as if he couldn't trust anyone, but the truth was that he still had his friends. Draco, however, really was an outcast now, only because of him.

***************

Only a short time later, the Gryffindors were sitting in the Great Hall for dinner. Harry hadn't wanted to go but his friends hadn't given him a choice.

"What was that with Malfoy, Harry?" Ron wanted to know.

"Mmh?"

"I don't know how to say it, but you looked almost concerned about that prick."

"I just ran into him-"

"For me it seemed you would care about him."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"You know, Harry, Malfoy was watching you lately a lot of times-" Hermione tried to help Ron.

"Oh, just shut up, okay?" Harry looked at his friends, annoyed. He started to get a headache.

A few places further down a second year proudly showed his new owl to his friends. The high voices of the girls and the noises from the owl itself didn't help Harry at all. He grew even more annoyed. Gryffindors, and especially Muggle-borns, just didn't know how to behave adequately. No wonder the "light side" was going down.

The moment Harry noticed something was wrong it was too late. Desperately he tried to fight it, but his body only started to tremble and the power inside him grew. He stared at the owl, this annoying, useless something, and somewhere in his mind he heard a single word.

"_Incendio."_

In front of their eyes the owl caught fire. Screams filled the Great Hall, but fortunately some of the upper years reacted fast enough and cast water spells or just emptyied their glasses over the owl.

Harry felt sick and was near to loose consciousness. Only the thought of what would happen then kept him awake. With a jerk, he stood up and left the hall without a backwards glance. He needed all his concentration to avoid running into another table.

Ron and Hermione looked at the injured owl in horror once again before following Harry, but as before Harry was already out of sight.

***************

Breathing heavily, Harry hit his right fist against the stone wall in a desperate effort to banish the demon inside of him with the physical pain.

"Harry?"

The Gryffindor stooped dead, paralyzed. He knew this voice. _Oh God, not you._

"Leave me alone, Professor, please," he said silently, ignoring the anger he still felt for this man, but recent developments were more important.

Dumbledore looked at Harry's bloody hand with concern. "Look at me, Harry."

Harry closed his eyes, biting his lips as despair grew inside of him. Slowly he turned around.

"What's wrong with you, Harry?" Dumbledore asked friendly. "It's clearly visible that you have problems." The boy looked as if he would start to cry, and he trembled visibly.

"Just leave me alone, okay?" pleaded Harry.

"Harry, my boy-"

"Please!"

A stronger tremor run through his body and his expression calmed a bit. The green eyes, however, showed the greatest despair Dumbledore had seen in his life.

"If you don't leave me alone, I have to force you," the boy said calmly. After a short pause, he added, "Professor".

Dumbledore stared at the young man in front of him. His voice was surprisingly calm, but his whole appearance spoke of a fight. A fight, also visible in his face, where sorry, fear and a derisively smirk tried to gain the upper hand.

"I will leave you now, Harry, but please know that you can always come to me." There was no way the boy would speak with him now. He had to try something else.

Harry just nodded.

***************

Only evening the next day, Harry was on his way to the dungeons, once again. How was it possible that he got detention with Snape, when he didn't even was in his class anymore? First he didn't want to go down here, but then he decided he would play their little game a bit; however, that didn't mean he would be unprepared.

His wand ready to hand and a small dagger in his pocket, Harry felt at least a bit reassured. The dagger was the outcome of one glorious moment he could control his magic enough to regain his transfiguration skills during the last night. To be honest, he was rather proud of it. The dagger was far more detailed than any other thing he managed to transfigure before, with a small, sharp blade, subdivided into two parts through a thin notch in the middle, and ornate inlays at the hilt.

He reached the Potions classroom and knocked. Hearing Snape's voice, he entered. The moment he saw the man, Harry was seized with cold anger but was able to hold his temper down, yet.

"Professor," he said, disdain clearly in his voice, before his eyes fixed on another person present.

"Sit down, Mr Potter," Snape said. If one had listened carefully, he would have heard a slightly gentle touch in the voice; but Harry didn't really listen.

He stared at Malfoy, who sat calmly in the first row in front of Snape. What was Malfoy doing here? He certainly didn't have detention. He never got detention with Snape.

Harry stood stock still, clenching his fists. He couldn't fathom why, but somehow he felt betrayed. He didn't trust Malfoy, not really, but he had thought… he had believed Malfoy had changed sides, but if the Slytherin would sit here calmly with Snape….

Harry's thoughts were racing uncontrolled. Everything must have been a plot; this whole saving him in front of the Dark Lord and Malfoy's strange behaviour afterwards.

His fury increased.

Snape chose this moment to rise from his chair, his eyes on Harry in the same unpleasant way as they were before… when he had forced Harry to drink the potion.

Memories appeared in Harry's mind. Memories of the last detentions he had had in this room; memories of the tortures he had to endure under Voldemort and his Death Eaters; memories of the humiliation, the pain and his fight to keep everything a secret. And finally, memories of Snape himself, setting hands on him.

His fingernails were cutting in his palms, but Harry didn't notice. He was caught in his memories and the emotions coming with them.

_Traitor._

There was Severus Snape, the man who disliked him his whole life, the man who treated him as badly as he could under Dumbledore's eyes, the man who eventually handed him over to Voldemort in a way he never would have imagined.

_Traitor._

He felt power rising inside of him. Power that up to now only was directed against him.

_Traitors have to die. The world is better when Snape dies._

The last bit of common sense Harry had vanished in favour for the rage and raw power he felt.

And Harry stroke out.

***************

Slowly, Draco had risen too. Potter's expression was nothing less than frightening. He was just about to move forward, trying to calm the Gryffindor, when a wave of raw power hit him, dashing him over the table and against a wall. He struggled, but the power held him firmly, making any move impossible.

He watched with horror as Potter moved closer to his godfather, who was pushed against the wall behind his desk.

The angry power emanating Potter made the air crackle.

***************

The teen came nearer, and with every step Severus could feel the bonds around him tighten.

Eventually, Potter stood directly in front of him, his face mere inches away. Potter's head was slightly tilted as his eyes looked dangerously up to his. He couldn't look anywhere than into these green eyes with the colour of the Killing Curse, even though he felt slightly chilled.

"You will pay for what you did to me," the boy whispered, and goosebumbs rose where his breath hit the Potions master's flesh. "For tormenting and abusing me. For betraying me," Potter hissed. Severus couldn't ignore the similarity between him and a certain Dark Lord. Even their voices were alike – a strange mixture of English and Parseltongue, as if the two wizards didn't even know which language they spoke at the moment.

Severus still could feel how the raw power of magic around him increased, radiating from the Gryffindor in palpable waves. Harry's anger went directly into his blood and into his very being. The boy's face was distorted by fury and determination. There was no question how this fight might end, and Severus Snape had to admit that he was afraid to not survive this day.

Harry's lips turned into a demonic smile, as if he knew exactly what Snape was thinking, and Snape's body convulsed in pain. Fire was burning through his veins, and his lungs and heart felt as if they were being crashed by the mere power surrounding him. He screamed, but the sound never escaped his body but was stuck in his throat, while his eyes were still caught by the deadly colour of his assailant's eyes.

It happened fast as lightning. For a second, Severus saw pain in the boy's eyes, pain and fear. The eyes reminded him of the tortures he witnessed, and in front of his inner eye, he saw them once again.

Harry's eyes went wider, and without any warning, he began to scream. He fell to his knees, grabbing his head. Both, Draco and Severus, felt the power around them disappear.

Harry sat on the floor, slightly rocking back and forth without stopping to scream or cry. The Slytherins called him, but he didn't react to any of their words. He completely broke down. Eventually he stopped screaming, though tears were still running down his face. Severus could hear the boy murmur but the only words he could understand were, "no, oh God, no".

Moments later the door of the dungeon burst open and Professor Dumbledore stormed in. Snape didn't ask why he was there. Without a word, the Headmaster took hold of Harry's shoulders, stopping the rocking of the boy.

With tear strained face, Harry looked at him. His breath came in fits and starts. Dumbledore put his arms around the boy and started to rock Harry again, murmuring soothing words.

"Oh God, Professor, make it stop!" Harry pleaded. "Make it stop…"

***************

Once Harry had calmed satisfactorily and was safe with Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall, Dumbledore motioned to Severus and Draco to follow him into his office.

He closed the door behind them and cast a powerful silencing charm before gesturing for Snape to tell him what happened.

„And you are sure Harry used dark magic?" Dumbledore asked once Snape had finished his tale.

"Yes, Albus, I am. It was strong enough you could feel it. I hate to say it, but it felt just like the Dark Lord's powers do."

The Headmaster nodded sadly.

"He did it before," Draco said suddenly.

"What?" Both adults turned to the student.

"The powers of the Dark Lord, Potter used them before." Draco was more than glad that the adults didn't send him away, as, finally, the first things made sense.

"How do you know that?" "When?" Dumbledore and Snape asked simultaneously.

"At the last Hogsmeade weekend."

"That's weeks ago!"

"What did he do then?"

"Well, I was meeting with my father and Potter and his friends saw us. He and father talked about something I didn't understand fully," even though he now had a vague idea, "well and then, I don't know exactly what he did, but somehow he activated the mark on fathers arm. He was in visible pain."

"Thank you, Mr Malfoy, for this information. However, I think it is better now that you go to your common room," the Headmaster spoke calmly but the dismissal was clearly in his voice.

Draco wanted to object but his godfather made him not doing so.

"Draco," he said firmly, but his eyes promised they would talk later.

Draco grudgingly said his goodbye and left.

Once the two adults were alone, Severus fixed his counterpart with his eyes. "What's happening with him, Albus?"

***************

Dumbledore and Snape had talked a bit longer, trying to figure out what was happening. After Harry's breakdown or attack and Severus's return, they both had an idea, but still they didn't know the whole truth. Additionally, it was completely new that Harry seemed able to use Voldemort's power as he wished; even if Harry didn't seem to like it.

Fact was that Harry would go to Voldemort as soon as he was asleep, and Voldemort would torture him in a way Dumbledore really didn't want to think about. Another fact was that this situation wasn't new; it rather looked as if it was going on for several weeks or even longer. He had to admit that Harry had done an amazing job to hide all this.

By now, Dumbledore also couldn't deny anymore the similarities between Harry and the young Tom Riddle, both in their attitude as well as in the magic they used. Perhaps Severus was right, and Harry had in fact used Voldemort's own power. But how was that possible? Did Voldemort found a way to obsess Harry without him being near? Or would the voices prove right and Harry was in fact turning into a dark wizard himself? Dumbledore couldn't belief that. The boy suffered visible, and he himself had seen the fight going on inside of him. But what would they do if Voldemort was stronger than Harry in the end?

Dumbledore sighed as he reached the door to the hospital wing where Harry was. With a heavy heart, he opened the door and entered.

Harry was sitting at the furthest bed, near one of the windows, and was looking out at the landscape. _He looks so small_, Dumbledore thought. Madam Pomfrey threw him a sad look, which clearly showed Dumbledore that Harry hadn't talked to the nurse. Slowly he approached the figure on the bed.

"Harry?" he asked cautiously, but the boy didn't react. "Please, Harry, you asked me to stop it, but I have to know what I am supposed to stop to be able to help you."

The Gryffindor still didn't react. After several further fruitless attempts, Dumbledore settled on another approach.

"If you don't want to talk about it, Harry, I could lend you my Pensieve."

"Thank you, sir, but that's not necessary," Harry answered finally. While he had waited in the hospital wing, he had calmed down and could gather his thoughts. As much as he longed to tell somebody, it was too late now. Voldemort would know immediately. It was too late to get help from anyone, and it was his own fault for waiting this long.

"Then tell me what's happening to you," Dumbledore said a bit too forcefully. He sighed inwardly. He had to be careful, otherwise he would loose his temper, something that didn't happen in a very long time.

"No," was Harry's short response. Somewhere deep in his mind, Harry hoped they would figure it out, but he wasn't able to tell them right now.

"Do you want to talk to someone else?"

"No."

"Harry," Dumbledore began, "this isn't anymore only about you. You tried to kill Professor Snape. You have to tell me where you got those powers. Please, Harry."

If Dumbledore had thought he could get Harry to speak to him that way, he was wrong. Seeing that he was at a dead end, he did the only thing still possible. With fast movements, he caught Harry's face in his hands and locked the boy's eyes with his owns.

"_Legilimens_!"

Harry struggled, trying to get away. His fists were punching Dumbledore's shoulders but he couldn't turn away. The by now almost familiar anger appeared at the surface again, feeding on the fact that Dumbledore dared to invade his mind this way.

The Headmaster of Hogwarts didn't have a chance to withdraw in time, before he was hit by a powerful barrier that forced him out of Harry's mind, leaving him panting and with a headache.

Harry finally freed himself out of the Headmasters grip. He crawled a few feet away, before he wrapped his arms around his body, trembling slightly.

"I'm sorry, my boy. I shouldn't have done that."

"You're right, you shouldn't have, but you still did." The calm tone in which Harry had spoken, was even more hurtful than if he would have screamed and ranted.

„I promise we will find a way to help you," Dumbledore tried again in a last attempt.

"Of course," Harry said in the same tone, which clearly showed that he didn't belief it.

Knowing that he had messed up, Dumbledore stoop up and left.

***************

The next day, Harry went down to the dungeons once again, this time, however, not in the direction of the Potions classroom but Snape's private chambers. It was already late and Harry hoped the Potions master would be alone.

Nervous, he knocked at the door. One part of his mind was hoping no one would open and he would just be able to go away, convincing himself that he at least had tried. But only seconds after he had knocked, the door was opened.

Severus Snape was quite surprised seeing who had knocked at his door.

"Mr Potter?" he asked, masking his surprise completely.

The Gryffindor gulped once and then started to speak as fast as he could. "I wanted to apologise, sir, for how I treated you. Now I know you're, err, innocent, so, I'm sorry."

With that, he turned around.

Snape hadn't expect such an apology, so it took him some seconds to react. "Potter!" he called after the student. Seeing the boy had stopped, he continued with something he never even had thought possible he would say one time. "I can't say that I like you, but no one should have endured something like you did. I saw it and I saw more. I know what they are capable of. If you ever need to talk about it, feel free to come to me."

_Good damn, not the greasy git too!_ Harry cursed inwardly, but he said, "That won't be necessary, sir, but thank you." And finally, he vanished into the sanctuary of the dark corridors. Even if he knew that Snape was a prisoner himself that didn't mean that his memories about Snape torturing him were less real. He didn't want to talk about what happened, and above all not to Snape!

***************

Draco observed Potter even more closely now than before, and he didn't like what he saw at all. The Boy Who Lived was dying, the last bit of will and determination he had seen the day back at Voldemort's had disappeared, replaced by nothing but world-weariness.

Severus indeed had talked to him and after some persuasions told him everything he knew; finally completing the puzzle in Draco's head.

After growing up hating the "Potter brat", it was extremely weird, but he wanted to help Potter. He didn't know why, but he would be damned if he wouldn't find a way. He was still a Malfoy after all, and proud of it.

***************

**TBC**

**You know, it's kinda cruel leaving your thoughts in your head, all alone. So please review!**


	9. Chapter 9: A Way Out

**CHANGING TWILIGHT  
by severnaya**

**Chapter 9: A way out**

_I can't run anymore  
I fall before you  
Here I am__  
I have nothing left.  
(Evanescence – October)_

Just another insignificant class, just another day in life without any importance, that was what Harry thought. His whole life became even more meaningless. It was just a hurtful get around without purpose. And now he wasn't even in full control anymore.

He was lost, all hope he once might had had was gone.

After all the pain he went through, he couldn't fight anymore, not even for his soul.

He just couldn't take it anymore. Shall they look for another saviour. Prophecy, be damned. He knew what to do. For the first time in months, he had a plan. If he was honest, the idea wasn't new, but he had never really considered it.

He watched his friends scribbling down notes or staring at the professor in incomprehension. Some single tears were coming to his eyes, but this was the only way. He couldn't go on like this. Perhaps he was selfish, perhaps he was a pathetic coward, but at least he had a plan. He would stop this.

***************

The same night, Harry took his Invisibility Cloak and left the Gryffindor Tower without anyone noticing him.

Silently, he made his way through the deserted corridors. His first destination was the hospital wing. Once there, he sneaked inside. For the first time, he was glad that he had spent so much time in here, because due to this he knew where Pomfrey stored the more dangerous potions.

When entering Pomfrey's storage room, he nearly ran into the nurse. Harry pressed himself as flat as possible to one of the shelves, holding his breath. For a moment, Madam Pomfrey stopped. She frowned slightly and looked around. Finally, she dismissed the strange feeling and went out.

Harry waited another minute before he went further down the room until he reached the right shelf. He read the labels one after the other until he found what he was looking for. After pocketing the flask carefully, he tiptoed out of the infirmary. Next destination: the dungeons.

Using some short cuts, he soon reached a part of the secret passageway he had found behind Gregory the Weird before. By now, thanks to a lot nightly excursions, he had found other ways to enter the path system. He always had thought that the secret passages of Hogwarts were all just a connection between two particular points, but he had been wrong. During his visits, the numbers of passages he had seen before, in the night when he had followed Malfoy later, had turned out to be a vast net throughout the castle. And the most amazing part of it wasn't even its wide range, nor the hidden exit through the stone. No, the most astonishing aspect was, where the different paths lead to.

The other night, he once again had been exploring the system when the passage he had been in suddenly turned out to be a dead end. That time, however, he hadn't felt disappointed but had started to find a way through the stones. It had taken him about an hour, but it was definitely worth it.

He had stepped through the stones cautiously, as for that time he hadn't had a clue where he would get out. He would have never expected what he had seen then, though. He had stood in a living room. According to the bookshelves and the desk with papers, it had looked like a teacher's private chamber. And indeed, after some closer inspections, he could assign it to Professor McGonagall.

The next night, Harry had found other passages leading to private quarters of the professors. It seemed as if the passageways were some kind of emergency exit. Still, he had the impression that the professors didn't know about them as none of them were guarded in any way.

Harry reached another junction and turned left. He followed a small staircase down and turned left again. Now it wasn't far anymore. The passage, he was recently in, would lead him directly into Snape's private chambers.

When he reached the dead end he checked the time again. It was a quarter past midnight, not as late as Harry wished it would be, but he didn't want to wait. After a deep breath, he went through the stones as silent as he could. Once inside the Potions master's rooms, he looked around in unease. Of all the professors Snape was the last whom Harry wanted him to find in his private quarters. Steeling from his supplies, no less.

Thankful for the Invisibility Cloak, Harry searched the chamber for the potions he was sure Snape stored somewhere.

Behind him, a door opened with a crack, and Harry stiffened. Turning around slowly, he saw the Potions master coming out of another room. From what Harry could see, it was a private lab. Snape passed without noticing him, all the time murmuring something in his non-existing beard, and left his quarters.

Harry could hardly believe his luck. With a last glance at the door through which Snape had disappeared, Harry went into the lab. The room was sparsely furnished. In the middle stood a table, which was half of wood half of stone. Next to the table was a cauldron. A fire was happily blazing under it, forming dancing shadows at the walls. Cupboards and shelves covered the wall to his left; the other three were blank. There was no carpet, nor portraits at the walls. Harry couldn't even see a chair.

Harry didn't bother with checking the open shelves but went straight to the closed cupboard. Coming nearer, he could see that the doors weren't shut completely. Perhaps Snape brew something where he needed supplies, which were stored inside the cupboard, and didn't want to remove and add the security spells every time. Harry didn't waste time thinking about it, though, but opened the doors. He was looking for a special vial.

Once again hardly believing his luck, he soon found what he was looking for on the third shelve. Putting it away in one of his pockets, he shut the doors as far as they were before and left Snape's chamber as fast as he could.

***************

Harry settled down at the far edge of the Forbidden Forest, out of sight of any curious student or observant professor, even if the chances for being seen were quite few, as dusk already drew her dark blanket over the country. He didn't know, though, why he came here. It just felt right being outside for doing this, and the dark shadows of the trees and the sparkling of the stars reflected his moods.

While thoughts of joy and pain took turns, he mixed the different potions together. Once finished, he stared at the vial in his hand. First, he had wanted to use sleeping pills, but he was too afraid that the last thing he would see and feel was another torture at the hands of Voldemort or Lucius Malfoy or anyone else. Now he was staring at the colourless, unimposing liquid in the vial.

Perhaps it would have been cleverer to talk to someone from the beginning; perhaps Remus would have been willing. Then again, the werewolf himself suffered a great deal under Sirius dead. Also, Harry didn't know where to find him; since the summer, Remus had been on one Order journey after the other. It was his way to cope with everything.

Tears made his way to Harry's eyes, letting them burn. No, he was right; there was no one he could go to. He was alone, now even more than ever before. He couldn't trust anyone, not really, not with his deepest thoughts and emotions.

Sure, there were his friends; but what few did they know? Yes, they had fought with him, especially the last time, ….where they all had risk their lives just because of some vivid pictures in Harry's head… when he had lost the small hope for a family he had dared to have. But this time was different. What he was facing now, what he was feeling now, wasn't something they would understand. It would be worse than in his second year, when they all believed him the heir of Slytherin; or at the beginning the Triwizard Tournament, when everyone thought he had cheated his way into the competition to get attention . Maybe Ron and Hermione both would stick with him this time, trying to pat his arms as if that would restrain the demon inside of him. Unable to help, they would pity him, and then even they would lose their faith and start to fear him. He would lose them, no matter what he did. Better to be the one making the decision.

_And Dumbledore? Why not swallow the small rest of pride and go to him?_ Dumbledore already was suspicious; and exactly that was the problem. The Headmaster wasn't the grandfather figure Harry started to see in him earlier; no, he was just a powerful but old man who fought an endless, almost epic fight against a former student he failed. If Harry would go to him, relieving everything, Dumbledore would just see Riddle in him, not Harry. Even Dumbledore wasn't free of fear, fear of what would happen if Voldemort would get his fingers on Harry, and not killing him at the same instant. Harry had seen it in the Headmaster's eyes, back then in the Ministry of Magic when Voldemort had taken possession over him.

And this time Harry definitely would lose; he had no courage left, his will was broken. Being at the mercy of Voldemort in the way Harry was now ultimately left marks to deep to heal. They would be right, all of them. Soon he would become the devil he was now destined to be, not the saviour.

The prophecy said that Voldemort or he must die at each others hand as neither of them would be able to survive as long as the other lives, but it didn't speak of the eventuality that one of them would die a different way. Perhaps there was another possibility to kill Voldemort once Harry was out of the way. The outcome of the war wouldn't rely on the shoulders of a single boy.

So he was doing this for the greater good, wasn't he? Harry laughed weakly, while tears were still running down his face. He knew it was a lie; one last, holy, bloody lie he would die with, but it was nice to think of it that way. That he would kill himself to save the others, instead of running away. Deep inside of him, he knew he failed them all; he let them down. But what else should he do? There was no way to fight it. Dumbledore and the Order were searching for a solution but it was clearly visible that they hadn't had a single clue were to start or what to look for. They couldn't even find a way to stop the visits, how should they be able to cease the power Voldemort had over him?

No, there was just one way to save them all, to save his friends and everyone else from having a second enemy, and to save himself from another round of torture and losing himself. He couldn't even imagine the things he could do if he went on like this. And the worst thing was that he would enjoy them. He just knew it. Controlled by Voldemort or not, deep inside of him he knew he would worship the death and destruction he would bring. The Harry Potter they all knew would die either way. Surely, they wouldn't wish him that. It couldn't be that wrong to once think of yourself first, could it? It couldn't be that wrong to choose the easy way out no matter if right or not after all what happened?

As if to help him in his decision, pain went through his body, rendering every thought impossible. Harry didn't even bother to find out where it came from.

A cold breeze helped him to clear his thoughts, making it possible to gather his remaining will and courage, as little as it was, to focus on the last battle he would fight; a last resistance, the overcoming of the strongest instinct mankind had: self-preservation.

With shaky hands and almost unable to breath, he downed the vial in one swig before the pain and despair would make moving impossible. He wouldn't let Voldemort win.

He felt the poison running down his throat and welcomed the numb feeling, which would lead him to oblivion.

His eyes focused on the castle in front of him. Then he fell to his side, arms wrapped closely around his middle when pain induced spasms hit him. Despite all he had seen, despite all he had gone through, it still hurt to let go. But he was so tired. He wanted to sleep, wanted to forget. Minutes later his eyes fluttered shut.

_I'm sorry._

***************

It was already quite late when the Gryffindor sixth years went to bed. When Ron entered their dormitory, his eyes fell onto Harry's empty bed. He stopped short. Ron had been sure Harry would be in bed already, being allowed to sleep or not.

They shouldn't have let him alone, as Dumbledore had asked them, but Harry had said he needed time alone. He wasn't a prisoner, was he?

Unsure why he felt that uneasy, he left the dormitory, hoping Hermione would still be in the common room. Fortunately, she was. He quickly told her that Harry wasn't in their room. She didn't need any more explanations and the two left the tower in search for their friend.

After they had looked in several places they knew Harry liked, the two of them stood forlorn.

"Perhaps we should go to Professor Dumbledore," Hermione suggested eventually.

Ron nodded and they walked down to the Headmaster's office, hoping the Headmaster was still awake.

He was.

The moment they told him that Harry was missing, he called the other teachers, despite the late hour. Minutes later a search party was roaming the castle.

Ron, Hermione and Dumbledore just had met again when Ron exclaimed, "Bollocks!", earning quizzical glances from the other two. Ron's expression suddenly told everyone he remembered something important. "The Marauders Map!"

Hermione slapped herself against her forehead. „Why haven't we thought about it before? God, we're so stupid!"

Without further explanations, they sprinted back to Gryffindor Tower. Dumbledore followed behind.

They dashed into the boy's dormitory, ignoring their fellow housemates, and Ron began rummaging through Harry's trunk.

"Got it!" He quickly unfolded the map and said the incantation.

Dumbledore couldn't hide an amused smile when seeing the map, despite the grave situation they were in.

Together they searched the map for the little spot labelled Harry Potter.

"There," Hermione exclaimed excitedly, "at the edge of the Forest!"

Again, the trio sprinted through the nightly Hogwarts and out of the Entrance Doors. On their way Dumbledore had called Madam Pomfrey and Snape to follow them.

The group ran over the nightly grounds of Hogwarts, using their wands to conjure a bit of light in the darkness. The cold air and the fear for her friend brought tears into Hermione's eyes, obscuring the Marauders Map in front of her. With the back of her wand-free hand, she brushed the tears away and scanned the map again.

"Somewhere over there," she said loudly so everyone could hear her, while gesturing with her arm to a point a little left of their actual position.

Snape strode out even faster. Dumbledore followed him closely, his swiftness belying his old age, and both of them vanished in the darkness.

"I can see him," they heard Snape seconds later.

Reaching the prone figure, Snape went down on his knees. Potter lay on his side, his eyes were closed and his skin was white as a bed sheet, looking deadly pale in the light of the wands. Snape reached out and touched the neck. The boy was ice cold. What stupidity had he done now?

"I can feel a pulse, but he's barely breathing," he sighed and locked his eyes with the concerned ones' of Dumbledore.

When Madam Pomfrey, Hermione and Ron reached the other two, Professor Snape was just about to turn Harry on his back.

Hermione couldn't help but shriek, seeing the lifeless body of one of her best friends.

"You two stay here!" Madam Pomfrey said determined, and the two students obeyed without complains, holding tightly on to each other.

Madam Pomfrey also went down on her knees, immediately starting to scan the boy.

"He doesn't seem to have any injuries," she said in a professional voice.

"So a potion or a spell?" Dumbledore mused.

"Could be," the nursed went on. "By all means, we have to get him to the infirmary straight away!"

Without hesitation, Snape gathered the cold form in his arms and stood up, leaving into the direction of the castle. Whatever happened to the boy, his life was in greatest danger.

As the Potions master moved, Ron saw a short glitter not far from where Harry had lain before. Without thinking, he left Hermione's side, investigating what is was. When his own wand light illuminated the place, he saw two tiny bottles lying abandoned on the cold floor. He bent down and picked them up. Hermione looked at him questioningly. Seeing the bottles in his hands, she looked at him silently for a moment. Without a further word, they followed the professors inside the castle.

In the darkness and their worry about Harry, no one noticed the shadows, which were moving near the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

***************

Professor Snape laid Potter's body almost gently on the same bed he was in before. The boy really was here too often.

Harry still looked extremely pale and one could barely see his chest raising. In the better light, Dumbledore could see that his lips had changed to a light blue; but even if the boy was ice cold he didn't tremble, he was already too far away.

Poppy was speaking one charm after the other while Severus had disappeared into the storage room. He came back moments later with several bottles and flasks in his arms.

Dumbledore stood back. Healing magic wasn't one of his best abilities so he didn't want to disturb those who knew what they did.

At that moment, Ron and Hermione hurried into the hospital wing, stopping at the side of their Headmaster.

"Will he be all right, Professor?" Hermione asked anxiously.

"I dearly hope so, Miss Granger. I dearly hope so."

"We found these bottles, sir," Ron said, showing the two vials to Dumbledore.

The Headmaster took hold of the bottles, watching them more closely. Once he read the labels, he inhaled sharply.

"We have a serious problem here, Severus," he said with real fear in his voice. "Look what Miss Granger and Mr Weasley have found."

Snape came over and read the inscriptions himself. "This brainless idiot!" he bellowed to no one in particular. With that, he turned around and started to speak with Madam Pomfrey in a hushed and urgent voice.

Dumbledore sat down on one of the chairs and motioned Ron and Hermione to do the same.

"You know," he said, looking at them a bit more relieved than he was before, "you conceivably have saved Harry's life, finding those vials. They contained two rather precarious potions, and the mixture of both is more than dangerous. With a bit of luck we weren't too late, though, and can safe him."

"Did he…" Ron began, "did he take those potions on purpose?" He couldn't believe Harry doing something like that, but he had to ask the question nonetheless.

The Headmaster sighed. "Sadly, that's what it looks like, but we can't be sure until he awakes and tells us himself."

***************

Well, luck was with them.

As Madam Pomfrey knew what she was looking for, she could localise the active substances and was able to render them harmless. Nevertheless, Harry stayed unconscious the whole next day.

The first thing he saw when waking up, was the blinding light of the lamps. It didn't take long for him to know where he was, neither to find out why. Someone must have found him and brought him here.

Only minutes after he woke, Madam Pomfrey came over and checked on him.

"You've given us a real scare there, Mr Potter," the nurse said, but Harry didn't bother to reply.

Soon after, Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall joined them, the latter looking more concerned than Harry ever had seen her. Thankfully, his friends weren't allowed to visit him yet. As much as he loved them, he couldn't deal with them now.

All of them, students and professors alike, were worried about him and his attempted suicide. The professors had soon found out that Harry had drunk the poison on his free will. Ron and Hermione knew about it too, but as far as Harry knew, no one else did, for what he was really grateful.

Dumbledore tried to talk with him. The man was genuinely concerned and seemed to blame himself, and Harry was sorry that he was the cause for the man's grief; but still, he couldn't help.

They just did what they thought to be the best, unknowing that saving Harry meant condemn him to hell. In contrast to Harry, they still had hope, but they didn't know the entire magnitude of the events of the past months.

Perhaps he should be grateful for having another chance of finding his own hope again, but he couldn't do so. A part of him couldn't help but feeling betrayed while another part was petrified with fear; and this was the worst. He lay there, staring longingly out of the window into the winter sky, dreading what might come.

Soon, he lost the unconscious fight and drifted into sleep.

***************

**TBC...**

**A/N: I finally got there! _"Just another insignificant class, just another day in life without any importance, that was what Harry thought." _This is the sentence this story started with, the first sentence I wrote_..._**


	10. Chapter 10: New Confidants

**CHANGING TWILIGHT  
by severnaya **

**Chapter 10: New Confidants**

_Hand of hope come and change me  
Out of ashes make me whole  
Lift me up and recreate me  
And help me overcome  
Myself, lead me from hell.  
(Full Blown Rose – In the Light)_

It was a cold December morning, one of the last days of classes before the winter holidays. Harry and his classmates were on their way to Care of Magical Creatures, which still was held outside.

Harry wasn't sure if it really had been clever to insist on going back to classes, but he just couldn't see the hospital wing anymore; and believe it or not, it was easier to avoid speaking of what happened while being in the midst of a lot of people.

They all wanted to talk. Normally Harry wouldn't have bothered, but this time it was utterly annoying. There wasn't anything to talk about. They just had to accept the decision he had made, and done. But no, they needed to analyse why he had done it, and if he would do it again. Dumbledore even had send for a psychologist from St. Mungos. God, how he hated this. There wasn't any difference between telling them or not. They wouldn't understand. They didn't know how it had felt. Not a single one of them was able to picture how it was to be under continuous torture and subsequently to experience this incredible power inside of you, waiting for your command. No one could imagine the mixture of fear and longing.

Harry stopped talking to them soon.

Sure, he understood that they were worried but there wasn't anything to worry about anymore. It was the truth. Since he had awoken the other day, something was different. It had taken him a while to figure out that he hadn't felt Voldemort anymore, and in his elation he even had risked falling asleep on his free will, but nothing had happened. It seemed as if the connection he had with Voldemort had completely vanished.

He had told them, well, he had told them he was fine and that everything was over now, but they didn't seem to believe him completely.

Harry looked around the grounds. He liked this time of the year, despite the cold. The grass and the Forbidden Forest were covered with frost, glittering in the early sun, as far as the eyes could reach. The iced grass broke under Harry's feet. The crackling didn't disturb the silent atmosphere at all but bode something surreal. Harry couldn't stop a small smile creeping on his face. The air was cool and clear, allowing a far view over the landscape. Behind the white Forest, some of the mountains showed themselves between the morning fogs. No sounds except their footsteps could be heard. It seemed as if the entire world was holding her breath, captured in a beautiful, silent dream.

Harry sighed and followed the other students. He felt content. This cool, icy world was like a start to a new life.

Finally, he reached the same small clearing near the Forbidden Forest, where he had met the Hippogriff in his third year. His classmates were already huddled at one end, wrapping their clothes tightly around themselves. Some looked expectantly at Hagrid, but the majority looked vaguely worried and wished to be somewhere else.

"Go' Mornin', class," Hagrid bellowed cheerfully. "Today yeh'll have the opportunity ter meet creatures many other wizards don' even know about."

Over half of the students went further away from their teacher.

"Some days ago," Hagrid went on, without noticing his students' unsure faces, "I'd one o' the most striking experiences in my life-"

Hagrid couldn't finish his sentence, as some students had begun to scream. Behind the professor, the Forest had become darker, as if every shadow of the whole area would gather there. Then a smaller part of the dark broke away from it and emerged into the clearing.

Yells of "Dementors!" broke the silence, and those who were in the DA last year pulled their wands. All but one.

Harry stared at the creature. On first sight it looked rather similar to a Dementor, hovering some feet above the ground. But it wasn't a dark cloak floating in the air hiding decayed limbs. The creature looked more than a concentration of shadows or dark haze. Harry had seen enough Dementors to be sure that this wasn't one, but something very similar… and disturbingly familiar.

"Calm down!" Hagrid said in this moment. "This isn' a Dementor. There's no danger!"

"Yeah, as there's never danger with his creatures," someone murmured. "For me this thing looks rather dangerous."

"Evil," someone else said.

"Hagrid?" Hermione asked bravely. "What is that!"

Hagrid's face beamed. "This, Hermione, is a Schattenwesen. They are relatives o' the Dementors. Normally they live in desolated areas, far away fr' humans, but some packs wander around as this one. We can really call us lucky that they're willin' to show 'emselves." Hagrid faltered a moment, seeing his students' still uneasy faces. "They're attracted by power," he went on a little less enthusiastic, "especially Dark Magic, well, an' as far as I know also by despair and similar strong emotions."

"Can they harm us?" Seamus wanted to know.

"Well," Hagrid seemed to become even more uncomfortable, "some say, the Schattenwesen can suck out souls similar like the Dementors. But I don' believe-"

Hagrid stopped. The students were retreating even more.

"Err, there really is no danger," he tried to calm the students. "Look at 'em, they look rather nice, don' they?" His voice broke with insecurity. "Well, um, let's call it a day then. Yeh're dismissed."

The students sighed released and slowly began to get away from the strange creatures. Harry, however, stayed where he was.

During the whole time, he couldn't look away from the Schattenwesen. As strange as it was, he somehow felt somewhat attracted to the creature, as if he would know it. Unconsciously, he took a step forward.

Hagrid saw it and called him. "There's really no need for a demonstration or somethin', Harry," he said a bit sadly.

Some of the students turned around hearing their professor's voice.

"Harry?" Hagrid called again, attracting more students.

"Sure, Potter has to play the hero," Malfoy sneered. Another proof of his perfect mask, because inside of him he was terrified of what Harry was doing. He still couldn't believe that the great Harry Potter tried to commit suicide. He seemed to have underestimated the dimension of what Potter had gone through. And now the brain-less idiot once again walked into a life-threatening situation without even blinking.

"Harry, yeh really shouldn' go that close…" Hagrid's voice now sounded nothing but worried and nervous.

Harry didn't notice him or anyone of the others, though. His entire focus was on the creature in front of him, only about one yard apart. They stared at each other, almost hypnotised. Then, without knowing why, Harry bowed with his right fist above his heart, feeling rather than seeing that the Schattenwesen did the same.

Hagrid and the students watched as both Harry and the creature bowed to each other. Some of them remembered the Hippogriff and waited for what would come now. Hagrid, however, got more and more nervous. It wasn't normal at all that the Schattenwesen let humans come so close, and they never bowed.

"Harry, don'!" he yelled, as Harry went even closer to the creature. Being that close to them wasn't wise but touching them was even more dangerous. It was too late, though.

Harry reached out with his hand. The moment he touched the creature all air in his lungs vanished. He opened his mouth for a silent scream but already had forgotten why before the first sound could escape.

The observers watched with increasing horror as the creature, or rather the shadow, surrounded Harry's whole body. For some moments it even looked as if they would mingle.

"Professor, do something!" Hermione cried, but couldn't move herself.

Harry vaguely was aware of the creature around him, but he didn't feel uncomfortable, not at all. Colours and pictures were rushing in front of his eyes, and then he saw himself.

He was lying near the edge of the Forbidden Forest, his body hunched in pain and despair and his eyes closed. It was dark and no other person was in sight.

He looked at himself from somewhere inside the Forest, and he wasn't alone. Several shadows moved beside him, slowly approaching Harry's body.

A dark power was emanating from his body, alluring the Schattenwesen constantly.

"What's with the human cub?" Harry could hear a voice. Somewhere in his mind, he was sure he couldn't understand it, but nevertheless he knew what the creatures were saying.

Slowly, they approached further, until they formed a circle around him.

"Pure darkness," one of the creatures said yearningly.

"Despair," another one said, "and pain and sorrow."

Harry felt that it was the same creature, which showed him this, that was speaking. "Two souls."

"They are fighting," a fifth voice observed.

"Your choice, Morven. It is your cub."

There was a moment of silence until Harry's creature spoke again. "Take the dark. The despair is mine."

Some of the Schattenwesen approached nearer to Harry's body until they almost touched him. Harry was holding his breath. The scene in front of him more or less looked like the scene when the Dementors had attacked him and Sirius. The Schattenwesen took turns. One after the other they neared his body, floating above him for some seconds and then left; each time hauling something like a dark mist out of Harry's body. This repeated itself for several minutes.

Finally, Morven, the creature to whom belonged these memories, approached Harry's prone figure. It also floated above Harry for a while, but then it sank into his body. A short while later it returned, floating above Harry again.

"Live, my cub," it whispered. "Live and be a part of me."

The picture became blurred, and seconds later Harry felt the cold ground on his knees. His breath was racing

The group watched the grey cloud Harry and the creature had become with growing concern. Finally, the view cleared and they saw Harry kneeling in front of a dark shadow. His eyes were distant and the moment the two parted completely he slumped down, sitting on the cold ground.

Gradually, Harry's breathing became more even. He felt the Schattenwesen, Morven, move, leaving the ground to hover again some feet above it.

Hagrid, seeing the creature move and thinking it would attack Harry again, went forward to get him out of harm's way.

The movement caught Harry's attention, and he lifted his arm to signal Hagrid to stay away.

"No! It's okay, Hagrid," he said quietly, looking firmly in the eyes of the gamekeeper. Then he turned back to the creature. "We're equals."

Hagrid stared at Harry, unsure of what to do.

Eventually, the Schattenwesen went back to the Forest, where the rest of the pack still waited.

Harry's eyes never left it. "Morven," he whispered, letting the sound melting in his mouth, while the Schattenwesen vanished in the darkness of the Forest.

***************

Back inside the castle the students threw Harry various glances, some strange, some curious, and some worried. No one knew what was going on with him, but they definitely noticed the shifts in his behaviour lately. And now this.

Amongst the students, especially his friends looked worried. _I have to stop this, _Harry thought. _If I ever want to be alone or be treated normally, I have to stop this._

"Are you okay, Harry?" Hermione asked in this moment.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry." Harry tried to sound reassuringly. Seeing the concerned faces, he added jokingly, "You know guys, lately it seems you aren't doing anything else than worry about me. You have to stop that. Life's beautiful. There are so many miracles out there."

All of them lapsed into silence. _Well, probably that wasn't the best thing to say,_ Harry thought.

Hermione, meanwhile, stared at Harry. She was absolutely at a loss at how to act around him or how to treat him. Only days ago, he tried to commit suicide, and now he was saying that life was beautiful. Hermione couldn't even deal with the first part of it, unable to imagine why Harry ever had thought that would have been the only solution. This was just too much.

"Anyway," Ron finally tossed in, ignoring all the rampaging thoughts in his own head, "that looked rather creepy. What happened with this… thing?"

"Schattenwesen." Hermione added out of reflex.

"Not even Hagrid seemed to know what exactly happened."

Harry shrugged his shoulders. Once again they found a topic he didn't want to talk about. This started to become routine.

Hermione, interpreting Harry's silence wrong, said, "Are you really fi-", but the annoyed glance Harry threw her stopped her from speaking further.

***************

Eventually, the Christmas Holidays arrived. First, Hermione and Ron wanted to stay with Harry, but he convinced them that they should see their families. It was obvious the two didn't want to leave Harry, but he couldn't help. There was so much happening in his life lately, and Harry once again decided to get along with it alone, at least in the beginning. This time, there didn't seem to be danger so he wasn't afraid of a repetition of… well, past happenings.

It had cost Harry more than one day of reaffirming them, over and over again, that he was fine and still would be fine when they came back, until he finally could convince his two friends to go. Their faces were still a bit worried when they left Hogwarts together with the other students, though.

That was yesterday.

Now Harry was sitting on a window-sill in a deserted corridor, looking over the grounds of Hogwarts. Not many students remained at the castle this year and it was easy to be alone, even in the middle of the day.

The weather hadn't changed the last days and the country still lay calmly under a blanket of snow and the vast winter sky.

Leaning back at the stone, Harry's eyes went to the Forbidden Forest repeatedly. He longed to meet Morven again. He had so many questions. Harry was completely certain that the Schattenwesen had taken whatever connection he had to Voldemort, but how or why they did it, he couldn't say.

In addition, he yearned for the safety he had felt. It hadn't just been safety, but Harry failed the words to describe it better. He just wanted to feel it again.

He knew he shouldn't have done what he did – touching an unknown creature just because he felt it would be all right, this was one of the gravest mistakes one could make in the Wizarding World. But somehow, he just knew they didn't mean him harm.

Letting his heart win over his head, he slid down from the window-sill. Using the shortest way he knew let him stay in front of the Forest only minutes later. Chanting repeatedly in his head to calm down, he went inside. Harry would never say he feared the Forest, but he definitely could think of places that were more enjoyable. His memories of the Forest weren't that good. The mere thought of Aragog and the other giant spiders let him shiver slightly.

Nevertheless, Harry went deeper. Yet, he didn't have to go far until he could see or perhaps better feel the Schattenwesen around him.

Between the trees on his left and right side, the shadows moved and were getting thicker. Soon they surrounded him completely. Despite his previous feelings and thoughts, he now felt more than a bit insecure about his decision. Unsure of what he should think about them or how to act, he stopped.

All around him murmurs started to rise. First, it sounded like wind whistling through dry leafs but eventually he could pick up different voices.

To his left, one of the Schattenwesen seemed to call somebody and its voice was stronger than those of the others were. Harry tried to concentrate on that single voice. Regardless it being what he tried to achieve, he jumped when suddenly he could understand the voice, completely unprepared for success.

"Morven!" the Schattenwesen called out again. "Morven, it's your human cub. Come here!"

Harry didn't feel offended by being called human cub, not at all. He didn't know why, but somehow he felt comforted by the sound of it.

In front of him the Schattenwesen parted, making place for Morven, who came to the front. Even if all of the Schattenwesen more or less looked like bundled shadows, Harry was instantly sure that this was Morven. At the same moment he lost any doubts he had had before. He was certain, that he would be all right and safe, no matter what.

It almost felt like coming home.

Morven changed into a more human form, and Harry was sure the Schattenwesen smiled.

"My cub," Morven said. "I'm glad you found the way to us, to me."

"Yes, me too." Harry answered honestly without second thought.

Morven went forward and embraced him, and Harry couldn't help smiling himself, as he once again felt nothing but safe, secure, protected and … loved?

Morven moved back and looked at him, eyes shining brightly. "Come with me my cub, I'm sure you have a lot of questions."

***************

One of the students who stayed at the castle beside Harry was Draco Malfoy. Since his betrayal, Hogwarts was much more safer than going back home, where his father and the Dark Lord surely would already be awaiting him. Right now, he was sitting at the single table that seated the remaining students and staff members comfortable. He felt a bit odd sitting at the same table as the professors, but he definitely preferred them than sitting directly beside the three remaining Hufflepuffs or one of the Ravenclaws. At least there was only one Gryffindor aside from Potter, a second year who didn't seem to have the ability to talk at all.

As always, twelve Christmas trees decorated the Great Hall. Small fairies were flying around the dark firs. Golden and silver Christmas balls mirrored their light, and the reflections joined the fluttering light of the candles illuminating the Great Hall. It was dinnertime and the ceiling already showed a dark deep blue, letting the floating candles appear like stars. In Draco's eyes, it looked calm and beautiful.

A little bit to his left and at the other side of the table, Potter was busy with sorting the raisins out of his plum pudding. Why he even did bother with still eating the remaining pieces Draco couldn't tell. What Draco could tell was that the Gryffindor looked a lot happier than in the weeks before, also the haunted look in his eyes were gone. He had seen Potter going into the Forbidden Forest earlier that day but hadn't a clue why he would do that, but a lot of Potter's actions didn't make sense to a reasonable thinking person.

Since the day after the rescue, when Harry had thanked and apologized to Draco, the relationship between the two had changed. It were subtle changes like a small, almost hidden, friendly gesture here, or a short nod with the head when they saw each other in the corridors there. Or only the lack of fights between the two.

At some points Draco even had the feeling that Potter was some kind of friend now, and he had to admit he would like that. But perhaps the reason for Potter's behaviour was only that he hadn't had much contact with anyone else back then.

However, the two of them had somehow accomplished a truce between them. The incident in the dungeons hadn't hurt that much. They hadn't talked to another since then, though. Perhaps it was time.

Shortly before Potter seemed to be finished, Draco excused himself and left the Great Hall. He didn't want to look as if he was running after Potter after all. Once out of view, he leant against a wall, half hidden behind a stone statue, and waited for Potter to leave the Hall.

About five minutes later, the dark-haired entered the Entrance Hall, the rare and barely visible ghost of a smile still on his face. Draco pushed himself from the wall, revealing his presence to the Gryffindor.

Harry stopped in his tracks and looked at Draco, the question clearly visible on his face.

"Potter," Draco greeted him in a neutral voice.

"Malfoy," Harry answered, trying to sound equally neutral, but failed. The question in his tone still was quite noticeable.

"Would you mind a walk?" Draco asked in the same indifferent voice. "I'd like to talk to you." He had wanted to say 'I want to talk to you' but decided that it probably would be better the other way. And in fact it seemed to work, as Potter was looking as if he would debate with himself about what to say.

Unaware that the other could read his expression that easily, Harry pondered whether to say yes or no. He was rather sure about what the Slytherin wanted to talk, and he didn't fancy the idea much. However, Malfoy always was open for surprises, and he certainly wouldn't start to analyse Harry's psyche.

"All right," he eventually agreed, and Malfoy immediately turned around and aimed for the great oak doors.

***************

Dumbledore watched Harry leave the hall and sighed, but for the first time in weeks not out of helplessness or worry but out of relieve. He didn't know exactly what was the reason for the current shift in Harry's behaviour, but he definitely acted less tense than before and looked a lot freer and calmer than in the last months.

He had tried to speak with Harry after his attempted suicide, but the boy had denied him any answers, as did the psychologist for whom he had sent. Of course, the psychologist took an unbreakable vow not to talk about the content of his meetings with Harry unless there was an acute matter of concern; but still Dumbledore would have liked to know a bit more. He wasn't accustomed to not being inducted in everything and to know less than others.

Harry had assured them he was fine, but it was a bit hard to believe Harry in this special content after what he had concealed in the last months. However, the way he acted right now spoke for the truth in his words.

Then there was the incident with the Schattenwesen, Hagrid had told him about. They were another topic he didn't know much about, only the more or less common rumours. Even Hagrid, who normally adored all kind of creatures others would take to their heels, wasn't that sure about them. He just used an opportunity once he spotted them, and they agreed to be part of his lesson.

Both Hagrid and Dumbledore likewise had come to the conclusion that Harry and the Schattenwesen had somehow merged or even bonded themselves together. Hagrid was sure that Harry's eyes had turned dark for a short moment of time, which was an unmistakeable sign; but still, as far as Dumbledore could tell, the Schattenwesen never bonded (or whatever) at first sight. Perhaps there didn't even exist something like a bonding between human and Schattenwesen. The rumours could be fairy-tales. Who could say? There weren't many reliable information about them.

The people who have met or knew about the Schattenwesen mostly feared them. The Schattenwesen were considered dark creatures, dangerous and creepy. But perhaps only because they were so similar to Dementors. However, Dementors sucked out your soul, leaving nothing but a functional shell. The Schattenwesen could suck out your magic, making you a squib, but a living and feeling one. Dementors fed on happy memories, leaving the person in pain and despair where he or she could only remember the worst of his life. Schattenwesen, on the other hand, fed on despair. One could think Dementors and Schattenwesen were opposites. Still, Schattenwesen weren't living beings a human should try to befriend.

But like always there seemed to be exceptions. Dumbledore had noticed that Harry apparently longed for being in the Forest, where he certainly would meet the Schattenwesen. He had seen him vanishing between the trees this very afternoon, and for once he wouldn't call a student for account for entering the forbidden place, not that he had done it that often before, mind you, for Dumbledore had the distant feeling, that in this case the Schattenwesen had accepted Harry in some way or the other. Whatever it was precisely, it seemed to do Harry good, and now, as the raven-haired was leaving the Great Hall, with this small smile on his face and those green eyes that finally had regained some of their shining, what else could he do than let him go? How could he deny him this kind of freedom and peace?

***************

The moment Harry left the safety of the castle the cold winter air engulfed him with its icy embrace and made him painfully aware that he wasn't wearing a cloak. He tried to conceal his discomfort from Malfoy, whom the cold didn't seem to bother at all, but couldn't suppress a shiver.

Slowly he caught up with the blond, and together they set off down the path to the lake. Harry felt a little bit awkward walking beside the Slytherin and was at a complete loss at what to say. For the lack of any ideas, he concentrated on finding his way through the nightly, snow-covered grounds.

Draco walked silently beside the Gryffindor, trying desperately to find a start. Most un-Malfoyish he hadn't thought this out beforehand. The plan had been to get Potter out to talk; that he had accomplished rather fine. Unfortunately, the plan did stop there.

Some yards further down the way and several quivers from Harry's side later, Malfoy stopped and looked at Harry who was currently rubbing his upper arms with his hands.

"Honestly, Potter," Malfoy exclaimed disbelievingly, "are you a wizard or not?"

Harry just stared at him, not having a single clue what the blond was on about. Shaking his head, Draco aimed his wand at Harry, who unwillingly took a step backwards.

"Relax," Malfoy said, and Harry stopped without questioning it again. "_Circumstrou caloris_."

The moment the spell hit Harry, he felt comfortable warmth spreading through his whole body, as if he was lying in the sunshine on a bright sunny day in August.

"Better?" Malfoy asked, rising an eyebrow in question, but the slight movement around his left corner of the mouth gave away the fact that he already knew the answer and the query was merely rhetorical.

"Yeah," Harry replied nonetheless, smiling. "Thank you. That's a lot better."

"I thought so," Malfoy responded, his scrutinising eyes fixed on Harry.

"What?" the latter asked, again uncomfortable.

"You're looking a lot happier lately," Malfoy said matter-of-factly.

Harry's smile faded. "Err…"

"Not that I mind, Potter, neither will I ask for the reason. It's merely an observation."

Harry remained silent and looked at his feet.

"Shall we then?" Malfoy asked, gesturing to the lake.

Harry, even without having seen the gesture, nodded and again went down the path beside the Slytherin.

They both walked in silence for a while, looking around the winter landscape. It was brighter outside than one would have thought in the Great Hall where the sky had looked rather dark blue. Outside, however, the moon bathed the grounds in a soft light, letting the snow glow in a light blue. The whole normally so familiar scenery appeared like a completely different world, almost surreal.

The two boys reached the lake and followed its shore for a while in a by now comfortable silence. Finally, though, Harry stopped and waited until Malfoy had turned around. This time, it was on the Slytherin's face, where the question was plainly visible, as if his mask had vanished in the growing dark.

"You've watched me quite closely, haven't you?" Harry enquired while looking Malfoy directly into the eyes. The Slytherin just shrugged his shoulders indifferently, but for a moment his eyes darted to the ground. "How much do you know?" Harry asked. He didn't bother to explain his question any further, he was sure Malfoy would understand.

Draco looked at Potter feeling a bit uneasy. The question had caught him off guard. He would have bet that Potter wouldn't start on this topic. He wasn't sure if it would be a good idea telling Potter, but another look into the now dark green eyes assured him that his secrets would be safe. Potter wouldn't talk.

Soon after Malfoy had started to speak, Harry turned around, investigating the frozen lake. While listening to Malfoy's calm voice, his eyes wandered over the iced up blades of grass to the snow-covered rocks near the shore, and then further over the frozen surface of the lake until his eyes reached the still liquid middle of it, where small waves send water above the ice. Where the water couldn't reach any more, the wind had painted white patterns above the dark bluish sheet of ice, and Harry followed those fragile lines back to the shore.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Malfoy sit down without halting in his talk. The Slytherin told him a lot more than he had expected. He did not only speak about how he tried to piece together what was happening but also told Harry about his private life, his father's plans and how it was growing up between Death Eaters. Now and then, Harry even could find some similarities between their lives, like the constant, underlying longing for real affection, the wish for being loved just because they were there.

Eventually, Malfoy lapsed into silence, and after a short while, Harry sat down beside him.

"Are you in trouble because of… saving me?" he asked after another pair of seconds went by, looking at Draco from the corner of his eyes.

The Slytherin shook his head. "No, not really," he denied. "I've moved in with Severus, so I don't have to worry about my personal things or that someone would attack me at night. Some of my housemates started to play me pranks, but nothing major. It seems more like that they have started because I moved out of the dorm."

"That's good," Harry said quietly. "I mean that it's nothing major." He added quickly.

For some minutes, the two of them sat there in silence. Harry thought it was rather odd sitting in the snow without feeling cold or even wet, but he couldn't muster up enough rational energy to follow these thoughts any longer.

"Sometimes, I wonder why there aren't any graver consequences," Draco spoke again, as if unable to keep his thoughts to himself any longer. For a moment, to Harry Malfoy appeared like a person who desperately clung to the last bit of wood that would prevent him from drowning. Yet, the Slytherin looked rather calm, as if speaking about another person.

Unsure of how to respond, Harry stayed silent. Malfoy didn't seem to expect an answer, though, and both of them looked out over the frosty lake again. Harry wondered briefly why he could feel this secure around the other boy, had they been enemies not that long ago.

"Call me Harry," Harry said without further thinking.

The Slytherin looked at him in surprise.

Harry returned the look, and emerald green met sapphire blue. "Well, we share secrets, which affect our lives thoroughly; I think it would only be normal if we were on first name basis, wouldn't it?" during the last part, Harry's voice had been getting quieter and a tad insecure.

Malfoy looked at him for another moment, but then a small but real smile spread over his delicate features. "I suppose you're right," he said slowly, while the moonlight danced in his sparkling eyes.

In a dark corner near the entrance door, Severus Snape stood and watched the two boys' silhouettes. It seemed as if his godson finally managed what no one else had achieved so far: get Potter to talk. With a ghost of a smile, he turned around and made his way to his chambers.

***************

**TBC...**

**PLEASE READ THIS:**

**First of all I wanted to say I am terribly sorry, I really am. It neither was supposed nor planned to take me this long for another upload.**

**The main reason why I didn't upload leads me directly to the second note I'd like you to know. I had major difficulties naming the creatures (Schattenwesen), and still have. I wanted to go with a Latin name and I already had looked for some possible words a long time ago. Unfortunately my luck stopped there because I really can't come up with a name I am satisfied with. As I didn't want to postpone the update any longer, I went with my working title. Schattenwesen is German and means more or less creatures of shadows, by the way. However, I will continue working on a name and once I succeed with it I will change it subsequently. I normally don't like stuff like that, but in this case it was the only solution I could come up with. I hope it's okay with you. I will, of course, make an announcement at the beginning of the chapter when I'm changing the name.**

**Yours,**

**severnaya**


	11. Chapter 11: Winter Happenings

**CHANGING TWILIGHT  
by severnaya**

**Chapter 11: Winter Happenings**

_Never opened myself this way  
Life is ours, we live it our way  
All these words I don't just say  
And nothing else matters_

_Trust I seek and I find in you  
Every day for us something new  
Open mind for a different view  
And nothing else matters  
(Metallica – Nothing Else Matters)_

During the Christmas break, Harry repeated his visits to the Schattenwesen several times. Mostly he would meet with Morven, and he already felt like home once he was with the Schattenwesen. Morven gave him a feeling of security and being safe, which existence he nearly had forgotten during the last months. What the humans around him couldn't accomplish, the Schattenwesen could.

Even if he seemed to be alone, he could feel the Schattenwesen watching over him. Harry didn't feel monitored, though; instead it was more as if the natural shadows of the Forest had turned into protective allies, guarding him from whatever might want him harm. Harry delved around the Forest in a way he never had even thought of before. The Forbidden Forest still was a dangerous place, and Harry still was only a human who could defend himself a bit with magic, but the underlying fear he had felt during earlier visits had vanished almost completely. What he now felt was more like the excitement a child felt when it explored a vacant house, or when it was allowed to camp outside for the very first time.

The sun had vanished a while ago, ceding the Forest to the nightly shadows of early dusk. Inside the Forest, the last bit of light soon faded away, plunging it in black darkness. Harry could hear the animals of the Forest awaken and judging by the sounds many of them wouldn't mind a human as a first meal. Harry, however, could still feel the Schattenwesen around him and didn't loose the calmness and ease of mind he had established over the last days. He wouldn't dawdle, but neither would he hurry.

With steady strides, he soon reached the edge of the Forest. While it had become pitch-black between the trees, it was a bit brighter at the grounds, but still shaded enough to call it dark. Harry turned around one last time to see the Schattenwesen lingering near the border of the Forbidden Forest, almost invisible inside the darkness. He smiled slightly and lifted his left hand as a gesture to say farewell, before he turned again and walked up to the inviting lights of Hogwarts's many windows.

***************

If there had been more students around, Hogwarts certainly would spill over with rumours and assumptions about the picture one could see if the person were just wandering outside through the grounds of Hogwarts these days. Two students, one normally would only see together when fighting each other, were walking silently around the lake, too close to each other to be enemies.

During the last days the delicate truce between Harry and Draco had grown stronger than either of them had anticipated; truce became peace, peace turned into acceptance and acceptance finally transformed into friendship. The change went faster than one would think, especially when taking into consideration the type of relationship the two had had during the first five years since they had met in that shop in Diagon Alley, but both of them couldn't find a reason to fight against each other anymore. None of them would admit it right now, but both felt comforted by being in the present of the other, although neither Harry nor Draco could put into words what they felt, or find a reason why they felt the way they did.

When they past a larger rock that stood near the path, Harry quickly caught some snow in his hands, and without a warning he threw the snow at the back of Draco's head; he was, after all, still was the son and godson of Marauders.

The Slytherin stopped dead in his tracks and then turned around slowly and as gracefully as one could with snow dropping from the head.

"Harry James Potter," he said menacingly. "You hyperactive, dim-witted, immature Gryffindork! How dare you?"

Harry smiled at him from ear to ear, and without another word he threw a second snowball at Draco.

The blond ducked in the nick of time. "Just you wait!" he called out and started the counterattack. What Harry hadn't anticipated was that Draco reached for his wand, and seconds later Harry eyes widened as a seven feet high and about ten feet wide wave of snow came rushing towards him. He tried to run away, but the wave was too fast and caught him easily, burying him under several feet of loose, cold snow.

When Harry had fought his way back to the light, he saw Draco standing some feet away, his arms crossed in front of his chest, looking thoroughly pleased.

Harry grimaced sulkily. "That was mean," he told Draco, who merely raised an eyebrow. "Help me up?" Harry asked and extended one hand in the Slytherin's direction.

Draco went forward and grabbed Harry's hand, but the moment Harry's fingers engulfed his own he knew he had made a mistake. In the same instant he felt Harry pulling, and he himself landed in the snow, face first.

Draco could hear Harry laughing beside him, and this time forgetting about his wand he lunged forward, mercilessly embalming the still giggling Gryffindor with snow. Once satisfied, he let go and lay down on his back, his clothes and hair were already completely wet, there couldn't be done any more damage.

"You know," Draco said after a while, "even if we aren't enemies anymore we should keep up the competition."

The look on the Gryffindor's face was priceless. "Competition?"

"Sure. It would be more than boring without some kind of fight, wouldn't it?"

Harry thought about that for a moment. In the past years, he had always wished Malfoy would just vanish from earth. But now everything was different. Malfoy was Draco; someone he could talk to about everything if he would want to. Additionally, Draco could better imagine than anyone else what Harry had faced or would have to face, just because the way he grew up. Behind the façade of Malfoy there was Draco, a person one perhaps could even trust completely. And as a matter of fact, Draco was the only person who wouldn't treat him like a fragile puppet or ticking time bomb. Their recent snow fight had been fun. With some of the old rivalry, life would definitely be a bit more interesting; but yet.

"What kind of competition are you thinking about?" Even if Harry felt as if he could trust the Slytherin, one could never be sure. There were a lot of nasty things Draco could and would do without hesitation if he considered them reasonable, and the dividing line between wrong and right lay extremely low.

"A bet about the outcome of the next Quidditch match," the blond said. He had rolled to the side, propped up by his left arm, and looked straight into Harry's eyes. The Gryffindor watched Draco carefully, trying to find any hidden meaning. "There will be the Slytherin-Ravenclaw match at the end of January," Draco went on. "I say Slytherin wins, of course. You can take Ravenclaw."

"What would be the stake?"

Draco started grinning slightly. "Whoever wins has a wish the other must fulfil."

"Are you nuts?"

"Scared, Potter?" Draco asked innocently but with a provocative smile on his face.

"You wish," Harry answered, and knowing this could be the stupidest thing he ever did, he agreed.

***************

Things were going well. Harry was not only on friendly terms with Draco, but was quite sure that he had found a true friend in him. When he wasn't with the Slytherin, he would visit Morven as much as he could without attracting too much attention. Life was peaceful and quiet; but life wasn't fair, and soon the peaceful atmosphere was about to be disturbed.

It was four days before the rest of the studentbody would return to Hogwarts. The students that had stayed over the holidays and the professors were sitting at one of the large tables in the Great Hall having lunch. Professor Flitwick had bewitched the Christmas trees, which now were covered with snow, matching the trees outside. During the last days it had snowed almost constantly, and Hagrid was the only one who could walk outside without difficulties or using some spell to melt the snow or blow it away.

Some of the professors were talking quietly, as did some students, but on the whole it was by far more tranquil than the hall normally would be. Harry and Draco sat side by side in complete silence. The first time the two of them had entered the Great Hall together they had got more than one curious and confused look. Even Dumbledore had seemed surprised. Still, no one approached the unusual pair, and neither Harry nor Draco bothered to explain their recent friendship.

Harry was just about to drink his pumpkin juice when a stabbing pain in his chest made him cry out. Inhaling sharply, he grabbed the front of his cloth with one hand, while the other clung tightly to the edge of the table, making his knuckles stand out white against the rest of his skin. Harry bent forward, his eyes firmly shut, trying to get a hold of himself.

Dumbledore had stood up immediately and had nearly reached Harry when the Gryffindor opened his eyes and lifted his head a bit. Draco, sitting directly beside Harry, could see that the other's eyes weren't focused on the table, but instead it looked as if Harry would listen to something inside of him.

Dumbledore was just about to touch Harry when the student abruptly stood up. Without noticing anyone around him, Harry stormed out of the Great Hall. It took them some seconds, but then Dumbledore, Snape, and a bit behind them, Madam Pomfrey chased after Harry. Draco wanted to go too but was held back by McGonagall.

Inside his fogged mind, Harry could only think one word: Morven. He knew something had happened to the Schattenwesen. He could feel it. And this thought alone occupied his mind. He didn't perceive any of the persons around him, nor the halls he passed, but was just moving blindly through the familiar place. His world existed only of the knowledge that he had to move on. Sounds wouldn't reach him and walls morphed into something insubstantial, of which in retrospect he couldn't say if it was black or white. His subconscious noted the shift in the temperature and somewhere in his mind Harry knew he had left the castle. Once outside, he fought his way through the deep snow without even noticing the effort it took, heading straight to the Forbidden Forrest. He didn't even bother thinking about where he was going. In fact, he wasn't thinking at all, unable to form a coherent thought. His world only consisted of one aim: reaching Morven. Harry had given control to his instincts, completely trusting that they would lead him to the Schattenwesen.

About five minutes later, and drenched from top to bottom, he reached his destination and stopped dead. His vision cleared but he still didn't notice the other three people arriving behind him. Harry's eyes were fixed on the sight in front of him; everything else was an unimportant blur. Morven was lying only some feet away on the ground. The snow around the Schattenwesen was coloured in a dark grey tone with a hint of red; unmistakably blood.

Harry sank down on his knees, shaking all over. Carefully he touched Morven. The moment his fingers came in contact with the Schattenwesen, pictures started to appear in front of his eyes. Men in dark robes; some firing spells others chanting something in an unrecognisable language… Another man, also wearing black, came forward, carrying something in his hands… Harry could feel Morven's fear. He hadn't even known until now that Schattenwesen could be afraid. The man came nearer and Harry recognized him. The red eyes were flashing before the man reached out, penetrating the Schattenwesen with the artefact he was carrying. The pain stopped the images, leaving Harry staring at the broken form of Morven. The physical pain of the Schattenwesen mixed with his own psychical.

Dumbledore and the others watched transfixed, as Harry knelt down beside the creature. It was clear that the Schattenwesen was something important to him. The moment Harry touched the Schattenwesen they could feel a strange power erupting between them, adjoining Harry with the mystical creature.

_They seem to be connected stronger than we assumed, _Dumbledore thought.

Harry's breathing was irregular, as if he himself was hurt. Dumbledore stepped forward carefully but stopped again when Harry started to whisper.

"Harry?" he asked tentatively, but the boy didn't seem to notice him at all.

"No," they could hear him say, shaking his head slightly. "No, no, NO!" With the last word, Harry started to scream. First, it sounded human, like somebody keening about the loss of a loved one; but then his sorrowful cry changed. Harry threw his head back, a movement that reminded the others of a howling wolf, and the sound erupting from his throat transformed into something they couldn't describe. Harry's now unearthly cry went directly through their bones, forcing them to put their hands over their ears, but they still were unable to stop the utter emotions that ravaged through their minds.

The power around Harry and the Schattenwesen increased, and Dumbledore had to retreat. Finally, Harry fell silent again. Still without paying regard to the other humans, Harry took hold of Morven and went deeper into the Forest. Dumbledore and Snape immediately tried to follow, but were stopped by an invisible barrier.

Unable to reach Harry, they returned to the castle heavy-hearted.

It was turning dark when Dumbledore relieved Professor McGonagall and began his part of the shift of waiting for Harry. But Harry didn't return that day, neither the next.

***************

Sheer worry let forget Draco most of his upbringing and the matters he had been taught, when he pestered his godfather in his attempt to get answers over and over again. He wanted to know where Harry was, wanted to know what had happened; but the man just blocked him out up to a point where the Potions master didn't even paused if Draco stood in his way.

Frustrated, Draco let go of this path. Luckily, there were other teachers who weren't so adept in hiding information as Snape was. After deciding on following Professor McGonagall, who by now looked as if worried sick, it only took some hours until he could eavesdrop on a discussion.

"I don't understand why Albus isn't looking for the boy," Madam Pomfrey said in a hushed voice. The two witches were walking through one of the corridors in the direction of the infirmary, and both looked rather fraught.

"Neither do I, Poppy," McGonagall answered equally whispering. "He is completely assured that Mr Potter will return by himself, but what if he doesn't? What if he tries IT again?"

"I was there, Minerva, and I tell you, young Mr Potter didn't look any near of being able to cope with the situation on his own. We have to find him."

Draco couldn't hear more, though, as the professors entered the hospital ward in which he couldn't follow unnoticed.

Draco wasn't sure if this conversation had helped him in any way. He now was assured that something bad had happened to Harry, but about that he had been certain beforehand. He also wondered why none of the other students seemed to worry about Harry missing meals, not even the Gryffindor second year. Draco, undoubtedly, would have noticed his absence, even if he weren't on friendly terms with him. Perhaps he wouldn't have cared, but no doubt, he would have noticed, wouldn't he?

Draco stopped outside the oak doors, looking across the Forbidden Forest. The traces of Harry and the three adults racing behind him were still visible. _Where are you, Harry?_ He asked himself. _ What is happening to you now?_

***************

Two days had passed since Harry had fled out of the Great Hall. Draco was once again sitting on the stone steps in front of the oak doors, letting his eyes roaming the grounds for any sign of Harry.

It was late in the morning when he spotted the dark shadow against the white of the snow. Draco stood up and went down the few steps but stopped there, waiting for Harry to come.

The Gryffindor looked far worse than the day he had left. He appeared worn out, and Draco was sure he hadn't eaten in those days he was missing.

Harry came to a halt directly in front of Draco and looked at him wearily.

"Hey," Draco said.

"Hey," Harry replied.

Draco wanted to ask question over question. He wanted to know what had happen, where Harry had been, what he had done, and why he had this determination in his tired eyes. But instead he said, "Go to bed. I'll tell Dumbledore that you're back."

Harry looked at him gratefully and with a nod entered the castle, swaying slightly.

***************

**TBC…**

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A/N:  
A BIG THANKYOU goes to those who put Changing Twilight to their favourites or story alerts, you really made my day: **xXxLuna-the-ChosenxXx, stkatie00, Poseida Lunar, Nagini Potter, RinBaby and Emmeraude**. Additionally special thanks goes to **moriah93ohio, Poseida Lunar, crazybibliophile and harrylover101** for your kind reviews. I so enjoy getting feedback.

Once again I'm sorry for the delay. I hope you're satisfied with this chapter. Please let me know any comments, thoughts, wishes, fears etc. that you have, there're still some gaping holes in the plot ahead (although I decided on how it will end^^) and I'm thankful for everything that might get my imagination and inspiration back to work. So, pluck up courage and leave a review; I and other readers will appreciate it much!


	12. Chapter 12: Of Friends and Fellows

**CHANGING TWILIGHT  
by severnaya**

**Chapter 12: Of Friends and Fellows**

_If I lay here,  
If I just lay here,  
Would you lie with me  
And forget the world?  
(Snow Patrol - Chasing Cars)  
_

During the following two days, the little rest of the holidays, Harry roamed around the Forest again, and every time he delved deeper and stayed longer. He felt one hundred per cent safe.

Harry was alone. Well, that meant he was the only human in a wide range. He wasn't really alone. Even though he couldn't see anyone, he still could feel the presence of the other Schattenwesen around him in the Forest, especially Morven's. Now he knew what Morven meant with 'Live, and be a part of me'.

Harry was more than glad that Morven had survived the attack, the attempted murder, for that was what it had been. He had reassured Dumbledore and the others that he and Morven were fine, and that he wanted to spend time with the Schattenwesen. They didn't seem to understand this wish of his fully, but they accepted it and didn't interfere or prevented him from going into the Forest.

Morven had been badly injured. Whatever Voldemort had used had been very effective. The Schattenwesen and Harry weren't completely sure why Voldemort had risked coming that near to Hogwarts to attack the Schattenwesen, but they had a suspicion. Especially Harry believed that Voldemort had found out that the Schattenwesen were the reason why their connection had shattered, and he couldn't affect nor manipulate Harry anymore. For Harry, it was more than obvious that Voldemort had wanted to undo this loss of control, regaining the power over his enemy. And enemies they were. The hatred Harry had borne towards Voldemort now was stronger than ever before, and the fear which had consumed him only weeks ago had turned into loathing, too. However, this time the hate didn't control him, but instead he controlled the hate, and he would use it to his advantage.

The positive outcome of the attack, however, was that Harry now was even closer to Morven and the other Schattenwesen than before. Had they accepted him as a cub of their pack previously, he now really was part of them.

To save Morven's life, they had performed some kind of ritual. Harry wasn't completely sure what the Schattenwesen had done, as the prospect of being able to save Morven's life was all Harry had needed to know to agree, but he knew that his and Morven's life-forces were somehow connected for a while, feeding the Schattenwesen with his powers.

During the ritual, Harry had felt as if he and Morven would become one, and ever since Morven awoke again, he could feel the Schattenwesen stronger than he could feel the others of the pack, as he did now.

He was sitting in one of the less dense parts of the Forest; far enough from Hogwarts that even Hagrid wouldn't find him. Perhaps he didn't even dare to go that far. Who knew? All around him the ground was covered with snow, even the small tree he leant against. If he moved too much, snow would flatter down on him, glittering in the air.

It was cold, and Harry had forgotten to ask Draco about the spell he had used the other day, but truth be told, the cold didn't bother Harry much. He didn't know why he didn't feel the cold as much as one normally should, but it didn't matter to him.

Harry smiled, feeling Morven coming nearer. Contented, he laid his head on his knees, bathing in the feeling the Schattenwesen gave him.

A movement at the edge of his vision got his attention and he looked up. About one yard away, a small snake wriggled through the snow. Harry frowned slightly.

/You shouldn't be outside in this weather,/ Harry said without thinking. He didn't even notice he had used Parseltongue.

The snake stopped. If it were a human Harry was sure it would have scrutinized him. The snake was a bit longer than one foot and about as thick as one of his fingers. It came closer until it wriggled around his foot as if seeking warmth.

/Do you want onto my lap?/ Harry asked, more as a joke than being serious, still not really aware that he spoke the snake's language.

/Thanks,/ the snake replied. /I would appreciate that very much./

For a moment Harry looked perplexed at the snake, than a smile grew on his face. He leant back, producing another shower of snow, and let the snake slip onto his lap. Harry opened his cloak a bit and let the snake slide inside of it. There it curled and sighed contently.

By now, Morven had reached him, looking at Harry and the snake as amused as a Schattenwesen could.

"A new friend?" Morven asked

Harry just smiled.

***************

The small snake, who had introduced himself as Lyrus, had stayed with Harry even as he went back to the castle and was currently curled around his neck, completely hidden under his clothes and his scarf. Harry was waiting at the gates for his friends to arrive, as today was the day where the other students would return to Hogwarts. It was early in the afternoon and the Hogwarts Express had arrived some minutes ago, and the first Thestral-drawn carriages came into view.

Most of the students had already passed, among them Ginny, who had hesitantly waved at him, when Harry caught sight of his two friends.

"Ron! Hermione!" he called out, waving. The two of them spotted Harry and ran towards him.

"Harry! How are you? It's so nice to see you again. I was worrying that perhaps you felt bored. Did you get my letter?"

"Breath Hermione," Harry interrupted the stream of words. "I'm fine and I had a nice holiday. You can let me go now."

Blushing, Hermione stopped the hug she had engulfed Harry in and stepped back.

"Hiya, mate," Ron said and gave Harry a companionable slap on the shoulder.

"Hey Ron, so you've survived Fred and George?"

"Barely, I tell you," Ron answered and attempted to look serious but the rumbling coming from his stomach spoiled his try. "Merlin, I'm starving."

"You've just eaten at least ten chocolate frogs," Hermione exclaimed incredulously.

"What can I say?" Ron grinned. "I'm growing."

"Bad news for you then, mate," Harry interjected. "There won't be lunch today, some problems with Peeves, but the house elves sent sandwiches to the common rooms. You have to wait until tonight for a warm meal."

Ron's shoulders and mouth slumped down. "You're serious, aren't you?"

Harry nodded while trying to hide his grin. Finally, he and Hermione dragged the defeated red-head with them up to Gryffindor Tower.

About an hour later, the trio as well as several other Gryffindor students were sitting in their common room. The fire was crackling cheerfully, and all around the room one could hear friends talking about their holidays.

Harry sat on a window-sill with his back to one of the stone walls, so he could see the Forest in the corner of his eyes while looking at his friends at the same time. He liked sitting there, not only because of the view, but also because he could almost sense the depth behind him without feeling uncomfortable.

Ron had just finished a story about Fred and George's newest invention fake Felix Felicis, which only makes you feel lucky but has quite the opposite effect, drawing bad luck to every, when Seamus, who sat on an armchair near Harry, cried out and jumped up while simultaneously grabbing Harry's arms and dragging him with him.

Letting out a cry of his own, Harry landed on the floor with a loud thump. People around stared at them. After Harry had managed to unknot himself from Seamus he looked at the other boy indignantly.

"What the hell was that for?" he asked the Irish.

Instead of giving an answer, Seamus just pointed at the window-sill where Harry had been sitting before and where now Lyrus was hurled in one of the corners with his tongue tasting and smelling the air.

"That's a _vipera canus_, a grey saw scaled viper," Seamus told them. "That's a highly poisonous snake. It could kill a human within minutes!"

Everyone within earshot now stared at the small snake, while carefully keeping his or her distance.

"I've never heard of them before," Hermione said, her curiosity winning over the wave of fear she had felt at first.

"That's because they're extremely rare. The Muggles don't know them at all."

The snake hissed, and all the students except for Harry retreated further. Harry stayed where he was and listened.

/What do they want?/ Lyrus asked uncomfortably. /What did he say?/

/He said you are extremely poisonous and probably now everyone is thinking you will kill us all./

/Oh,/ the snake responded. /He is right, with the poisonous part I mean./

Harry looked at Lyrus for a moment and then started to grin.

The other Gryffindors had watched the exchange in silence and were now looking at Harry with big eyes; apparently many of them had forgotten he could speak with snakes.

"Don't worry," he said, laughing slightly and went back to the window-sill. "Lyrus is a friend of mine, he won't harm you." While saying that, Harry put forth his hand, and the snake wiggled up his arm until it was hidden once again.

Turning back to his friends, Harry could see that most of them were still staring at him.

"The snake's your friend?" Ron asked disbelieving.

"Yes."

"You're sure?"

Harry laughed again. "Yes, I'm sure. Don't worry."

Ron didn't seem convinced, but neither did he nor anyone of the others say anything. Instead they sat down again, although a bit further away from Harry and the covert snake than before.

***************

Later that day the entire Gryffindor sixth year went down to dinner together. When they had reached the Entrance Hall, Harry's view instantly fell onto the blond Slytherin who stood directly beside the door to the Great Hall, talking with Blaise Zabini. The Gryffindors around him were once again chatting about everything and anything, so no one noticed the smile Harry gave the other boy, nor the nod he received in return; no one, but Hermione.

Hermione was still worried about her friend. Even if they had talked for several hours, Harry had barely offered anything about his own holidays here at Hogwarts. Aside from vague answers like "I was strolling around the grounds" or "I've met the Schattenwesen again. Hagrid's right, they're quite nice once you know them", Harry had always managed it to direct the conversation to other topics.

Hermione didn't want to press too much. She knew a person needed its privacy, and perhaps Harry had just noticed through the last months that he was more comfortable that way… However, no matter what logical reason Hermione could think of, the underlying fear of loosing Harry never had vanished since _that_ day.

Banishing these thoughts to the back of her mind, Hermione sat down between Harry and Ron once they reached the Gryffindor table. She shouldn't have done that, as seconds later the two boys started a conversation about Quidditch.

With Gryffindor only on third place after losing against Slytherin in the beginning of the year, Ron wasn't as euphoric as he normally was, but he compensated it with determination. At least once a day, one could see Ron sitting over some charts, developing new moves or grumbling something about a certain bleached ferret that could only catch the Snitch when its opponent was falling off his broom.

"The next game is Ravenclaw versus Slytherin at the end of the month," Ron was stating while loading his plate with potato chips. "I just hope Ravenclaw wins. Currently they're leading with forty points. By winning they would increase their lead, true, but we'll still have chances to get to them. Everything is better than letting those slimy Slotherins win."

Harry slowly ate his meal while arguing with Ron. Whilst talking about Quidditch, he remembered the bet he had with Draco and didn't have any difficulties in finding reasons why Ravenclaw should win.

At one point, he looked over to the Slytherin table and saw Draco sitting at the far end, nearest to the door, reading an old looking book; his fork with a piece of potato forgotten in his hand.

A bit to Harry's right, Ron had just found another possible way to sabotage the Slytherin team in gluing their brooms together, and Harry returned his attention to his own food

He didn't eat anything special, just some chips and a small chicken wing, but halfway through the meal he started to feel unwell.

First, he wasn't sure, but soon the slightly uneasy feeling changed into real nausea and his stomach threatened to turn around. He held his hand in front of his mouth, trying to soothe his stomach; but the rumble only grew worse, and not two minutes later, Harry was sure not to be able to control it anymore.

Without another word he jumped up, climbed over the bench and ran out of the Hall, all the time pressing his hand even stronger against his mouth.

Once outside, Harry made a beeline to the next toilet. He just arrived in time as the bile had finally reached his oral cavity and he had to throw up.

He was just about to clean his mouth, when Ron entered the bathroom.

"Here you are, Harry. Is everything all right?"

"Yeah," Harry answered while drying his hands. "I just felt a bit queasy. That's all. Come on, let's go." Smiling, Harry led Ron out into the hallway, trying to find another topic. His knees were hurting from where they had hit the ground before.

***************

The first days of classes passed by quickly and before he knew it, he was on his way to the third breakfast of the term.

During the meal, Harry noticed Draco looking at him several times. Finally, his curiosity won and he waited until Draco looked again. Catching the Gryffindors questioning look, Draco motioned to the door with his head, indicating that they would speak outside. Soon after, Draco stood up and left the Great Hall.

Harry quickly finished his toast and stood up as well. "I see you guys later," he addressed his friends. "I have a few things to do." And without waiting for a response, he left the hall as well.

The moment the door to the Great Hall closed behind him, he started to look around for Draco.

"Harry," came the familiar voice from his left and Harry turned around to see the Slytherin leaning casually against the wall.

"Hey, Draco," Harry greeted the other boy, smiling slightly. "What's up?"

"Nothing important, really," Draco said indifferently while leaving the wall and walking up to Harry. "Time for a walk?"

Harry frowned slightly. Draco hadn't used that tone in a while. Checking the time quickly, he agreed.

They walked in silence for some minutes and Harry wondered what was the matter with Draco.

"You're all right?" he finally asked.

"Sure," Draco responded monosyllabically, but it seemed Harry's question was enough to break the wall as Draco's face shifted until he looked more like he had during the holidays. More genuine, in Harry's opinion. "What about you," Draco asked. "I saw your flight out of the Great Hall the other day. You looked ill."

Harry grimaced slightly. "I was sick, nothing serious."

"Good."

Harry watched the boy beside him. Draco looked as if he was contemplating on speaking further or rather break off the conversation right now.

Stopping in the middle of the corridor they were in, Harry turned to Draco. "Draco, what's the matter with you?" he wanted to know. "You're not acting like yourself. Did something happen?" Harry paused for a moment. The way Draco stood and talked reminded him a bit at how it was before their friendship had formed. He didn't want to loose that, Draco had become too good a friend for him. "Nothing has changed, between us I mean, has it?"

"That depends on you," Draco said, cool grey eyes regarding Harry.

Harry considered the blond again. Draco looked tense and on a closer look a bit unsure.

"What do you mean?" he asked. He really didn't understand.

Draco rolled his eyes and let out an audible exhale.

"I'm talking about that I barely saw let alone talked to you since you returned from the Forest." While saying it aloud, Draco remembered the short looks Harry had drew him every now and then, but he dismissed them the same instant. "It might still surprise you but I care," Draco went on. "I thought we were friends, but it seems I was wrong, and now that your precious Gryffindors are back-" Draco stopped in the middle of the sentence. "Merlin, I'm sounding pathetic! Just forget what I've said."

Draco walked down the corridor again, but Harry stood there glued to the spot. Finally, his body reacted.

"Draco! Draco stop!" Harry yelled. He ran after the blond and caught one of his arms to prevent him from walking further away. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize-"

"Forget it!" Draco interrupted him. "I shouldn't have said that. I acted like a little child who didn't get the attention it wanted." Draco's eyes went hard before he spoke on. "I don't even know why I thought a friendship with a goody-goody Gryffindor might be feasible, or desirable for that matter. I must have lost my mind."

"Don't talk like that," Harry said low-voiced, still holding on Draco's arm. "You know I'm not like that." He breathed deeply. "I guess, well, these last days I kind of relapsed into thinking and shrinking into myself. I forget that I could talk to you. I couldn't do that to Ron or Hermione, at least not about these topics. It's different with you, though. This whole friendship with you is different." _Deeper._ Harry hadn't realised it by now, but it was the truth. The friendship with Draco was on a complete different level than his friendship with Ron and Hermione. Not better or worse, just different.

Realising he was still holding Draco's arm Harry let go of it quickly. "You know, I really don't want to end our friendship, nor do I want to hide it. It's just difficult. I'm sorry."

The glacial look in Draco's eyes had softened a bit and he sighed. "So am I."

Harry smiled. Then his smile turned into a grin. "You know, if you feel better, I can tell Ron that Draco Malfoy just apologized to no one less than Harry Potter."

Draco looked at Harry and slowly his face changed into a mock threatening expression. "You wouldn't dare."

"Oh, and what will you do if I _do_ dare?" teased Harry, still grinning but dancing away from the Slytherin.

"Then you'll realise that your encounter with the dragon during the Triwizard Tournament was a walkover."

"Oh, I shiver with fear. Well, see you later then, Draco." With that said, Harry turned around and ran down the hallway to his next class, laughing.

"Watch your back, Potter!" Draco yelled after the raven-haired boy but couldn't help grinning himself.

***************

The first class after lunch was Advanced Charms, a mixed class of all four houses. The class had to be relocated, as the old classroom had been flooded by Peeves earlier that day, and the students tried to arrive early to save good seats.

On their way to the new classroom, Harry consciously noticed for the first time how high up in the castle they were, and although he didn't mind heights an uneasy feeling settled in his stomach. However, he already had forgotten about it when they reached their destination some minutes later.

When Harry, Ron and Hermione entered the room, Harry saw Draco sitting at one of the single tables near the windows in the back third of the room.

"Let's sit over there," Harry said to his two friends and motioned to some free tables. It resulted in Harry sitting right to Draco, followed by Ron and Hermione.

"Why do we have to sit here next to the ferret? There are other free tables," Ron murmured, looking wistfully at some tables at the far end of the class.

"Don't be stupid Ron, it doesn't matter where you sit," Hermione rebuked, without paying any attention to the tables or their occupants as she was reading the Charms textbook. "You have to pay attention, that's all."

Ron didn't respond anything but let his head drop to the table in a defeated way.

Harry looked to his left and caught Draco watching him, a smile hidden in the light curve of his lips.

That moment Seamus came into the room and took seat in front of Ron, wrong way round so he faced the other Gryffindors.

"Hey, I've just heard Filch talking to Dumbledore and Flitwick in front of the Charms classroom. It seems Peeves used some kind of magical water. When I walked past, the room was still flooded breast-high and a clownfish was jumping out of the door. The water stops exactly at the threshold. It seems we'll stay here for a while."

"Wouldn't be too bad, now, would it?" Harry asked nonchalantly.

"What about all the materials in the old classroom?" Hermione asked. "There were quite a few books in there."

"Why is she always talking about books?" Ron muttered quietly to Harry but Draco heard him too.

"Perhaps, Weasley, because some people have the brain to acknowledge the wisdom in certain books."

"Who asked you, Malfoy?" Ron asked angrily.

"Calm down, Ron," Harry appeased his red-haired friend. "You know, he kind of complimented Hermione."

"I certainly did not," came the prompt answer from left.

Harry turned around and raised his eyebrow in the way he had seen Draco do it before. "Of course you did."

"Did not."

"Did too. You said some people have the brain to acknowledge the wisdom in books, and therefore talk about it, like Hermione does."

"Never mind, Harry," Hermione finally interjected, a bit irritated about the childish behaviour of Harry and Malfoy. "Who cares what Malfoy thinks, anyway?"

_Ouch, that hit home,_ Draco thought without showing anything about his thought outwardly.

While the other Gryffindors turned to other topics, green eyes looked closely at the blond Slytherin, trying to get a message along.

_I care about what you think._

Judging by the small smile on the Slytherin's face, he understood.

Both Draco and Harry sat in silence for a while, half-heartedly listening to the chatters around them.

"Flitwick's quite late, isn't he?" Harry could hear Hermione say. Followed by Seamus comment, "I wouldn't care if he doesn't come at all."

Feeling a bit tired, Harry laid his head down on his folded arms and shifted to find a comfortable position. His elbow collided with something hard, and a thud told him that his book had fallen down the table.

Grumbling, he turned around to lift it up again, only to find the book hover directly in front of his eyes.

Harry's book had barely touched the ground, when Draco had reacted without thinking, bending down and lifting the book to give it back to Harry.

"Thanks," Harry said without noticing the shocked faces behind him.

"You're welcome." The faces looked even more shocked.

After putting the book aside, Harry folded his arms under his head, closed his eyes and again shifted into a comfortable position, still facing the Slytherin. While doing so, his collar got out of place, releasing part of his neck.

Draco couldn't help but stare and follow the delicate line from Harry's hairline down to where the seemingly smooth skin vanished into the rope. A movement under the fabric caught his attention, and he bent forward slightly to reassure himself he had seen correctly.

Again, something under Harry's robes let the clothes move. Draco starred transfixed at the elongate shadow that moved out of his hiding-place until it turned out to be a small snake that slid above Harry's skin.

"Harry," Draco breathed. "Is that a _vipera canus_ curling around you neck?"

"Mhm?" was the sleepy response.

By now, the other Gryffindors also had seen the small snake too.

"It's your little… friend," Ron said nervously while sliding to the right, bringing more space between him and Harry. He already had forgotten the petite animal Harry was carrying around all the time.

"Oh," was all Harry said before he hissed something in a low voice.

The snake once again disappeared under his clothes. Draco could see the fabric move where the snake slid down Harry's arm until it came out at his left hand.

"It _is_ a _vipera canus_," Draco stated.

"Yes, it is," Harry said tentatively, wondering if Draco would back away like the others did. He wouldn't have had to worry, though.

"It's beautiful." Draco's voice once again merely was a whisper.

Harry smiled. "His name's Lyrus. I found him in the Forest. It's far to cold out there for him this time of the year, so I offered him to accompany me."

Harry could distantly hear Ron mutter something like too much time with Hagrid but didn't pay much attention to it. Instead, he looked at the snake.

/Lyrus, this is Draco, a good friend of mine./

The snake seemed to scrutinize the Slytherin. /He does not look scared as the others did,/ the snake noted.

/He is not. He said you are beautiful./

/Did he?/ Lyrus asked and faced the blond again.

Draco watched in pure fascination as Harry conversed with the snake. He had never seen a Grey Saw Scaled Viper in real before, but had read a lot about them, mainly in his godfather's books, as the snake's poison was a really potent but extremely rare potion ingredient. Not that Draco had anything else to do than reading potion books. To the contrary of public believe Draco Malfoy wasn't a potion genius. Since early childhood, his godfather had tried to show him the hidden beauty of that subject, and indeed had succeeded. Unfortunately, Draco just didn't have talent in that matter. Not reason enough for Severus Snape to stop teaching his godson, something he would never have done for anybody else. _With knowledge and wisdom comes mastery, Draco,_ he would tell his godson repeatedly, before the boy would find another book on his desk or was assigned to just watch.

Even more mesmerizing than the snake itself was the language Harry used. Only once in his life Draco had heard Parseltongue before: during the duel of him and Harry in second year. The fact that he was the one who brought to light Harry's hidden ability to speak the snake language evoked a dazing feeling in his stomach. He was the one who made it possible for Harry to find something like this.

The fact that back in second year, Draco was more than annoyed that everyone thought Harry was the heir of Slytherin due to this special ability never crossed his mind.

"Do you want to hold him?"

Harry's question roused Draco out of his thoughts. "If I may."

"Lyr agreed, so don't worry."

Watching the snake curling from Harry's fingers and around his own, Draco had to concentrate to breath. He knew how dangerous this type of viper could be, but the way Harry and the snake, _Lyrus,_ interacted, made him belief that there wasn't anything to be afraid of.

"He's wonderful," he whispered and looked up shortly to see Harry smile at him and the snake.

"Of course Malfoy finds a highly poisonous snake fascinating," Ron drawled behind them. "Hopefully it bites him."

Draco looked up again, but not at Ron but at Harry, and once again a message was clearly written in Harry's eyes: _Don't bother about Ron._

***************

**TBC…**

**A/N Chapter 12: **

**Once again I'm sorry for the long wait.**

**I'd like you to know that in this chapter I used ideas or was inspired by two people.  
First, the fake Felix Felicis is entirely the idea of hisui86, a good friend of mine. I needed something Fred and George might have invented and she came up with it.  
Second, the flooding of the Charms classroom was deeply influenced by SilverWolf7007's story _Dear Order_, precisely chapter seven.  
**

**As always a big thank you to all readers and especially to the reviewers (you know who you are) and to all those who added me to their favourite story or alert list. You're providing me with so much happiness and urge me to write on to give you back a little bit of that joy. I hope you liked this chapter. Harry and Draco got closer but soon several things will change, creating new hurdles to overcome. I just have to figure out how to get there °~°, but I will, yessir.**


	13. Chapter 13: Developments

**CHANGING TWILIGHT  
by severnaya **

**Chapter 13: Developments**

_The world seems not the same__  
Though I know nothing has changed  
It's all my state of mind  
I can't leave it all behind  
(Within Temptation – Pale)_

The next day, Harry sat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall picking at his breakfast. He was hungry, but after dinner the night before he had to throw up for the third time since the return day of the other students. Slowly, he began to worry what was going on.

First class today was Potions, and he just hoped they wouldn't brew something too malodorously. Harry had rejoined the Potion class after the holidays. He still felt uncomfortable around Snape but that wasn't a real novelty. At least, Harry didn't feel the urge to murder the man anymore. In fact, both of them acted rather neutrally around each other – a circumstance, which alone should have been enough evidence that something was wrong.

He nibbled a bit more at his toast but soon the uneasy feeling in his stomach returned, and he lay the toast aside, trying his luck with pumpkin juice, while waiting for his friends to finish. His thoughts wandered to the Schattenwesen out in the Forest. The pack had decided to stay, and Harry wished he could visit them more often. Since classes had started again, he barely had time to see Morven. Feeling a bit lonely in the middle of his friends, Harry closed his eyes and concentrated on the connection he had with the Schattenwesen; and soon enough, he could almost smell the Forest around him.

Half an hour later, Harry was caught up in the process of cutting Asphodel when a small explosion on the Slytherin side of the room let him jump and the blade of his knife cut through his skin.

With a low hiss, Harry pulled his hand away. The cut on his thumb was a clean, clear cut and not exactly deep, but it was bleeding enough. Without hesitation, he put his thumb into his mouth to prevent the blood from leaking even more. It tasted sweet, Harry noticed, and was colder than he had assumed.

His body reacted independently from his thoughts. He fingered a handkerchief and absorbed the last bit of upcoming blood. He asked Hermione for a plaster, just to be sure. You never knew in Potions. After the lesson, he would remove it, so the wound could heal better, and everything was fine. Harry did all this whereas his thoughts moved into a completely different direction. While he was stopping the bleeding, he imagined the blood running down his hand, more and more, leaving crimson trails on his skin.

He shook his head to drive the thoughts away before they could go any further and instead return his concentration to the potion in front of him.

At lunch, during which Harry's nausea luckily hadn't returned, Hermione had asked him to accompany her to the Owlery, and Harry had agreed. It had been a while since he had seen Hedwig and she certainly would be huffy.

"Do you want to send a letter or why are we going to the Owlery?" Harry asked when they reached the fifth floor.

"I wanted to order some additionally potion supplies without waiting until the next Hogsmeade weekend," Hermione responded. "You know I prefer to have my own supplies." She shrugged.

Several yards before they reached the Owlery, they could already hear the hooting of the many inhabitants. Once inside, Hermione carefully went over to where the school owls were seated to choose one for her delivery.

Upon entering the Owlery, Lyrus left his spot around Harry's neck and was now safely curled up in one of his pockets. Harry had barely set a foot inside the Owlery when a white bunch of feathers obscured his view. "Hey girl," he said, while holding out is arm so Hedwig could sit on it. "I'm sorry I left you alone so long." The snowy owl clicked her beak twice before she wandered higher up Harry's arm. Harry took this as an acceptance of his apology and started to stroke the soft feathers.

"Oh, come here you!" Hermione's voice rang through the cold room. Harry looked over to find his friend fighting with a barn owl. Whilst Hermione tried to attach the rolled parchment to the owl's leg, the owl flapped its wings in an attempt to get away. Apparently, Hermione had chosen one of the few owls who didn't like being used as messengers.

"Need any help, Hermione?" Harry asked.

"What? Oh no, it's okay. I'll just have to fix this- OW!" With a swift move, Hermione pulled her finger away from the owl's beak. The owl took this possibility to escape and flew up to one of the highest perches. The ribbon that had held the letter had loosened, and the now unrolled parchment was slowly sailing down to the dirty floor.

"Do you want to send Hedwig?" Harry offered.

Hermione sighed and with a relieved smile at both the boy and the owl she replied, "Yes, thank you."

Hedwig left Harry's shoulder and flew to a perch in wait for the letter, while Hermione made her way to the parchment on the floor. As she lifted it up, she made a face: the entire page was covered in fresh owl faecal.

Seeing that his friend would need a bit longer, Harry turned around to one of the many windows. He always had liked the view from the high towers of Hogwarts. He appreciated being able to see more than just the lake or the Forbidden Forest. From up here, the landscape stretched endlessly to the horizon, and Harry enjoyed having a vast overview of his surroundings. He felt free and simultaneously save.

He looked down to the ground beneath him. A couple of students were outside, plainly visible in front of the still white meadow. Harry leaned forward a bit more, trying to see the base of the tower. From one moment to the other his vision blurred, and Harry had the feeling as if the ground would bolt upwards. Jerkily, he stepped away from the window and grasped the wall.

Carefully, Harry looked out of the window again. He didn't have a problem as long as he was staring straight ahead, but as soon as he was looking down, the dizziness returned. Since when had he problems with heights?

That moment, Hedwig choose to fly out of the Owlery with Hermione's delivery request carefully attached to her left leg, and Harry turned around and followed Hermione out of the room without giving his momentary dizziness another thought.

***************

Later that day, Harry and Draco were sitting at the far end of the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, seemingly oblivious to the stares of the other students, who too used the place for learning or meeting friends.

"One should think I would be used to being stared at by now," Harry said quietly without looking up from his Potions essay.

"So the great Harry Potter doesn't like to be the centre of attention." Draco began to tease. Instead of rising to the bait, Harry hit him with a book. Rubbing his head, the Slytherin looked at Harry contritely. "What was that for?"

"Just for you being you," Harry answered with a grin. "Rather than making fun of me you could tell me why I have to cut the belladonna into teensy pieces instead of just using the mortar." Having missed several classes, Harry struggled to catch up on the other students.

"Which potion are you working on?" Draco asked, and Harry shoved his open Potions book in Draco's direction.

At the other end of the hall, three Gryffindors watched the two boys' interactions. None of them looked happy.

Hermione had promised Ron and Neville some help with their Transfiguration assignment and Ginny had joined them upon hearing they would go down to the Great Hall. Neville was currently reading an article Hermione gave him and didn't notice what the other three were doing.

"I don't like that," Ron muttered just as Draco was leaning forward to read Harry's essay and indicating something on the parchment.

"Me neither," Ginny agreed.

"Mhm?" Neville looked up. "What don't you like?"

"They act as if they were best friends," Ron went on without considering Neville.

The latter turned around to find out what his housemates were so upset about. "You're talking about Harry and Malfoy?" he asked. "A strange pairing, isn't it?"

"You can say that again. It just isn't right," Ron muttered. "What if Malfoy put Harry under a spell or something?" he went on while turning to his friends. "Remember that time he used to observe Harry?"

"A spell? Aren't you going a bit far, Ron?" Hermione interjected.

"Well, maybe," Ron agreed. Everyone was silent for a moment until Ron broke it again. "What about blackmail?"

Even Ginny looked dubious now. "Ron, I think you've listened to far too many of Bill's stories."

Neville nodded calmly. "Harry looks happy, if you ask me, and much more alive than he did during the whole school year. It doesn't look faked at all."

Hermione bit her lip. Neville was right. Harry wore an expression of serenity he hadn't shown for a long time, and he was freely laughing with Malfoy.

"Yeah, okay, you've won." Ron gave up in finding any more theories. "But you have to admit it is extremely strange."

Without knowing the worries of his friends, Harry listened to Draco's explanation about the different characteristics of belladonna.

"…and that's why you have to cut it for this potion but can shred it with the mortar for others. Got that?"

"I think so." Harry nodded. Before the two of them could return to their former occupations, tough, Lyrus sidled out of Harry's sleeve, attracted by a too alluring scent.

"He's still with you?" Draco asked, sounding almost delighted.

"Yeah, I guess he really prefers the warmth." Harry watched the snake making his way to Draco. "You know what's really strange?" Draco looked at him inquiringly while Lyrus wriggled around his wrist. "Besides me you're the only one allowed to touch him. Ginny tried it the other day but he just dismissed her with some very nasty curses. I'm just glad nobody was able to understand what he was saying."

"I see you're a well refined individual," Draco told the snake in a serious tone, even though Lyrus couldn't understand him.

Harry hissed something and a shiver went down Draco's spine. On his wrist, Lyrus stopped to listen to Harry before he turned his head back to Draco as if contemplating him. After about half a minute, the snake moved up Draco's arm and settled around his neck.

***************

The time went by and soon Harry was sitting in the Gryffindor common room savouring the last hours of the day. During the day, Harry had noticed his discomfort concerning heights time and again. Standing next to a window on the fourth floor was enough to become dizzy, and he was genuinely concerned about the possibility to develop acrophobia within only a few days. He also noticed that, even if he felt wobbly, he just couldn't stop the desire to look out and test it at every chance. Even now his eyes would glide over the other students in the room, to the first stars outside and then down to the nightly grounds until he had to look away to regain his focus. Despite his thoughts about spontaneous acrophobia, Harry wasn't afraid of the height in the original meaning of being fearful.

Lyrus was curled around Harry's neck once more, concealing the Gryffindor's newest scar, and the warmth of the lithe body on Harry's skin felt like an anchor to the here and now that prevented him from drowning in his thoughts. He looked back into the room and saw Ron staring at him with furrowed brow.

"Why do you always have to wear that snake?" Ron asked and his voice and face didn't hide his dislike.

"He's comfortable, and I don't mind," Harry answered stubbornly. "Bear with it." He didn't intent sending Lyrus away just because some people unnecessarily believed they were in danger; and right now he had enough on his mind without having to justify this decision once again.

Ron looked slightly taken aback but refrained from answering and instead looked at Hermione for help. Like before a voice inside of Harry told him that he wronged his friends and reminded him of all the things they had experienced together. Harry loved his friends, and it was wonderful to be with them again without wondering how to hide the newest injuries. The calm the Schattenwesen provided him with additionally catered for Harry being able to enjoy the time with his friends; but still there were so many things that buzzed through his head, so many memories and emotions he couldn't bring himself to tell not even Ron and Hermione. The happenings of the last months had changed him in many aspects.

Lost in his thoughts, Harry missed the wordless communication between the other two and only came back to the present when he heard Hermione talking.

"Say, Harry, did something happen during Christmas Break?" Hermione asked tentatively. "I mean, besides meeting Lyrus?" She tried to talk about the snake as neutral as possible. Although she couldn't understand it, it was clear that he meant a lot to Harry.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked in return, silently going over all the events of the holidays and trying to figure what exactly Hermione could be aiming at.

"Um, well, we were just thinking that you… err… behave a bit unexpected lately…"

"Behave unexpected?"

"In regard to your chosen company, for example."

"If this is about Draco and me just say it," Harry burst out, temper rising.

"So it's Draco now," Ron exclaimed, his voice a furious whisper in a feeble try to hide the argument from the other students in the common room.

"Yeah, have a problem with that?"

"Yes I have."

Both boys were staring daggers at each other.

"You have to agree that it is quite uncommon for you being on friendly terms with Malfoy," Hermione stepped in. "You two never went along before."

"So what? Things change. _Draco_ and I are friends now, as you might have noticed, which is exactly the same you and I are." _Well, perhaps not exactly,_ he added in his thoughts.

"But, why?" Ron asked with normal voice again but clearly not understanding.

_Because he helped me, because he saved my life, because he denied Voldemort in favour for me, because we have much more in common than anyone would think, because I can talk to him about everything. _Harry could come up with a lot of possible answers to that question. However, what he said was, "It just happened. Look, Draco and I talked a lot, and if you believe it or not he helped me several times, even before the holidays. You don't have to like it, just accept it, okay?"

"I don't doubt your honest motives, Harry, but why _his_ sudden change in mind? After all we know Malfoy to be your arch-nemesis as long as you know each other. What if it's a trap to deliver you to You-Know-Who on a silver plate?" Hermione asked hesitantly, vocalising one of their theories.

Harry looked at her, but instead of incredulity or worry, a weird kind of affection was visible on his face and he smiled that small, content smile again. "Certainly not, believe me."

"You're serious about this, aren't you?" Harry's smile spoke volumes, but Hermione just had to make sure.

"Yes, I am." Harry agreed while regarding his friends calmly, waiting for their reactions.

Hermione smiled at him, showing her acceptance.

"Ron?" Harry asked, looking at his friend both in hope and trepidation.

Ron sighed. Harry looked so much happier lately and he wanted nothing more than to see his friend more often like this.

"Well," he began, his eyes fixed on the carpet below them, "It would be a lie to say I like the idea, but I guess I could try to ignore him for the time being and see what happens. Okay?" Looking up again Ron met Harry's beaming face.

"Thank you, Ron."

"You're welcome," Ron answered and couldn't stop the grin spreading on his face; Harry's obvious happiness was infectious.

"So, now it's not only poisonous snakes but also Malfoys," Ron murmured after a while and shook his head. "You're really strange, Harry." The fondness in his voice and the smile on his face belied his words

***************

Saturday afternoon the Gryffindor Quidditch team had training. It was the first time Harry sat on a broom since before Christmas. He couldn't believe he hadn't used his broom for such a long time, but it was true. While going down to the pitch, Harry felt a bit uneasy about the training, as he wasn't sure how he would cope with his new peculiar emotions concerning heights.

Reaching the pitch, he adjusted his robes and waited for Ron to outline the training details. He had left Lyrus with Draco, as he didn't want to risk loosing the snake while flying. He hadn't been sure how Lyrus would react to his suggestion; the snake seemed to like Draco enough though, so he had tried. He had been positively surprised, however.

/So I am to stay with the good smelling one or alone in your room?/ Lyrus had asked. /That is not hard a decision. I choose the good smelling one of course./

Harry could have sworn the snake's eyes had sparkled.

Together with his team members Harry mounted his broom and took flight. While gaining height he looked straight ahead; only when he was above the goal posts he stopped, took a deep breath and looked down. The ground below him was blurred and seemed to waffle, but it wasn't as bad as when he was in the Owlery. This time it felt more as if he had forgotten to wear his glasses.

With another deep breath Harry started his rounds around the field and looked for the Snitch. They had decided that Harry would fly a bit for his own first, to get back the feeling of it. Each time Harry saw the Snitch, he would try to catch it and then release it again for another round. Soon Harry forgot the world around him while he was racing after the tiny, golden ball. As if he had just played yesterday, Harry chased around the stadium. He plunged down vertically, stopped in the last minute only to turn around to further pursue the Snitch. He flew loops, one-eighty turns and sidestepped abruptly, never letting his goal out of his sight.

Harry didn't notice that the other players had stopped and were now all standing on the ground watching him. He didn't notice Ginny pointing at him while talking agitatedly with her brother, or the cheering of Katie and Demelza after each of his pliant moves. He was completely caught up in the intoxicating sensation of flying; the dizziness had long turned into pure fascination. It was only when he stopped after catching the Snitch for the third time that he heard Ron calling his name. He turned around, and when he saw his team mates watching him from below, he slowly lowered his broom to the ground.

For a moment while flying down, Harry considered letting go off the broom and jumping the remaining part. It certainly would be even greater to feel the air around him without even touching a broom. But then he shook his head, grinning slightly at his own stupidity, as the fact that he was still more than twenty feet above the ground finally reached his brain.

The moment he landed near his team members, he was engulfed in their shouts and cheers. Everyone was talking simultaneously.

"Harry, you were awesome!"

"The pause hasn't harmed at all."

"I've never seen you fly that well!"

"Stop understating, I've never seen anyone fly like that!"

Harry could feel his cheeks becoming red in embarrassment for all that praise. He hadn't done anything out of the regular and really couldn't understand all the enthusiasm. Still it felt really nice, and he grinned at his friends.

Then Ron stepped forward and grabbed both of his shoulders. His face was a strange mixture of faked seriousness, suppressed laughter and pure exhilaration. "Harry, my friend," he started in a grave voice, "I am honoured to have you in the team." Then the fake seriousness grumbled and the characteristic Weasley smile took place on his face. "You were brilliant! The other houses won't stand a chance!" Ron's eyes sparkled in elation and still hadn't lost that specific gleam when they entered the Great Hall for dinner hours later.

Harry went over to Draco to collect Lyrus but was soon hurled back to the Gryffindor table. The entire meal and the rest of the evening were spent with describing Harry's moves to other Gryffindors and each time the exaggerations went further. Harry sat there in the middle of the euphoric crowd, blushing every now and then, and for these happy moments all of his worries and bad memories were completely forgotten.

***************

**TBC...**

**A/N: I slowly get to where I want to be. There are just some foundations that need to be built before new developments can begin. I hope you liked the chapter. Let me know what you think.**

**I also went back over the previous chapters and edited them a bit. I've deleted some grammatical errors and changed some expressions. In my opinion the changes were needed to improve the story; but don't worry, the scenes and the story are still the same. There are still the same things happening in the same order, so you won't miss anything if you don't go back to read it again. I just thought I let you know.**

**I'm always happy about feedback^^.**

**Yours, Severnaya**

**1st November 2009  
**


	14. Chapter 14: Falling

**CHANGING TWILIGHT**  
**By Severnaya**

**Chapter 14: Falling**

I fear who I am becoming,  
I fear that I'm loosing the struggle within,  
I can no longer restrain it,  
My strength, it is fading away,  
I have to give in.  
(Within Temptation – It's the fear)

The last two weeks of January went by without any major happenings or changes. Ron held true to his word and mainly ignored Draco, and Draco was just fine with that. Hermione had tried to get all of them together, but early on it was evident that, even if Harry was friend with all of them, they wouldn't get along, so they went back to their more separated ways.

Harry's nausea and acrophobia still occurred in more or less regular intervals and a deeply hidden part of his soul regularly told him he should just accept the fact that his life would never be as easy-going as he wished it to be.

Some days ago a slight pain had started to form in his legs every now and then; and one morning he had woken to his whole body aching due to an unknown reason. Overall, though, the pain was weak enough that he didn't tell anyone, not even Draco; but sometimes, for only a few minutes, it was strong enough to disrupt his sleep or compel him to stop in a hallway in the need to use the wall as support, as a sudden dizziness robbed him his ability to see.

His weakened state formed the ground for nightmares of his past tortures, and Harry was forced to face these memories rather than forget them. It seemed the calm days were over.

However, in spite of these circumstances, Harry mostly felt satisfied and more than once was glad to be alive. After all, none of these newer worries could persist in comparison to the past year.

***************

Finally, the day for the Slytherin-Ravenclaw Quidditch match had come. As always, almost everyone was talking about nothing else. The two teams had already left the castle and now the first students made their way down to the pitch.

Harry walked nervously alongside Ron and the other sixth year Gryffindors. He knew the result of the game didn't lay in his hands and that he should relax and bide his time, but he just couldn't stop his heart from beating as fast as it had on his way to the first task of the Triwizard Tournament.

Already from afar he spotted Draco in his Quidditch gear standing in front of the main spectators' entrance. The moment the Slytherin saw Harry a grin spread over his face. He walked forward and stepped into the other boy's path.

"Hey, Harry."

"Hi," Harry responded without enthusiasm once he came to a standstill; behind him the other Gryffindors stopped too.

"Ready to loose, Malfoy?" Seamus asked.

"Oh, Slytherin won't loose, Finnigan," Draco replied confidently. "Dear Harry here and I have a little bet going on and I'm planning to win that." He then turned back to face Harry and leant closer. "You know, I could let you dance naked at dinner tonight," he whispered.

Harry blanched. "You wouldn't."

"Mhm, if we win with enough points I might think of something else."

"Draco," Harry whinged. Why again had he agreed to this bet?

Draco just showed him his trademark Malfoy-smirk before he turned around. "See you later, Harry." And he vanished inside the changing rooms.

The game started unspectacularly with both teams snatching the balls from each other by turns. It took almost twenty minutes until the first goal was made; after that, however, the speed of the game increased. Several times Draco stopped Cho Chang from catching the Snitch and, thus, allowed his team to gather more points. His moves made it clear why the team never had kicked Draco out; although his standing in Slytherin House had dropped dramatically. Forty minutes into the game the score was seventy to twenty for Slytherin. Draco waited some more goals before he caught the Snitch in one last elegant move and the Slytherin stands erupted in cheers.

Harry's stomach, however, dropped once he saw the lopsided grin Draco sent him.

***************

In the late afternoon, Harry left a deeply depressed Ron for his meeting with Draco to deliver his promise.

When he reached the middle of the grand staircase in the Entrance Hall, he spotted Draco leaning casually against one of the stone walls, one knee bent and arms crossed behind his back. A huge grin spread on Draco's face once he sighted the Gryffindor. He left the wall and met Harry at the bottom of the stairs.

"Come on," he said in exchange for a greeting, and lead Harry back up the staircase.

"Where are we going?" Harry finally asked after several more stairs and deserted corridors.

"Somewhere we won't be interrupted."

"Interrupted in what?" Harry asked with a slight edginess in his voice.

"You'll see." Another grin – he really was getting a lot of those today.

Eventually they reached an unused room in one of Hogwarts's many towers. Judged by the furniture it once was a living room of sorts, perhaps a private quarter of a professor. There were several empty bookshelves along the walls, covered in a thin layer of dust. In one corner a formerly white, now greyish blanket covered what seemed to be a table with several chairs, and in another was a cosy looking, although thoroughly worn-out, sitting area. However, what most caught Harry's attention was the large floor to ceiling window. Right now his spontaneous acrophobia of the last weeks was more like a slight curiosity, so he didn't mind the height. He spotted a comfortable looking armchair near the window and ensconced himself in it.

"So, what now?" he asked Draco.

Draco had followed him through the room, and when Harry looked up again the Slytherin was holding a small potion bottle out for Harry to take. "Drink this," he said in a neutral voice.

Harry watched the tiny bottle with growing unease without making the slightest move to accept it. He swallowed heavily. "You know," he began, eyes flickering between the vial and Draco's face, "I have some really bad experiences with drinking an unknown potion."

"It's Veritaserum."

"So you say."

Draco exhaled slowly. It seemed as if he hadn't thought this through as thoroughly as he thought – he had forgotten about that potion incident Severus had told him about before Christmas. Contemplating the issue for only some seconds, Draco didn't have a hard time to decide how to convince Harry from the truth. Without further ado, he opened the potion bottle and took a small sip. A strange type of pleasure settled in his stomach upon seeing the expression on Harry's face – and intriguing mixture of relief, surprise and disbelief. "Satisfied?" Draco asked with a pleased smile on his face.

"I guess so," Harry said hesitatingly.

He waited a few more minutes during which Draco settled down on a nearby couch, although only after using a basic cleansing charm, before he asked: "What potion is in that bottle?"

"Veritaserum," Draco answered immediately before he added, "and some lemon and sage for better taste."

Harry's eyebrow rose at this. Only about a month ago Harry would have been terrified by the very idea of giving someone the means of finding out all his secrets, but right now, alone with Draco, the idea didn't disturb him a bit. He couldn't stop the silly grin that was spreading on his face. "So for loosing the bet you want to know all my darkest secrets? How… inventive."

Draco just shrugged his right shoulder nonchalantly. "Call it whatever you like."

Harry huffed good-heartedly. "Well, then let's get it over with. Give me that stuff."

***************

Draco had obliged more than willingly, and over the next hours both boys spent the time talking about all and everything. At one point the potion had lost its effect but none of the two paid it any attention – or noticed it for that matter. It might have appeared strange for others who still thought about Harry and Draco as a teenage type of arch-enemies, but the two had noticed earlier how comfortable they were in each other's company, and now they didn't mind at all baring their proverbial souls to each other.

Their talk altered between serious topics and past happening, teenage stupidities and favourite food. They touched upon subjects like Voldemort and the prophecy, growing up with a Death Eater as father and the Golden Boy image. They talked about love and how it could be the ultimate weapon to defeat Voldemort but also about past crushes; they philosophised about the different kinds of love and dared a small excursion into sexuality, which, admittedly, resulted in an awkward pause and a quick change in topic not long after. They talked about Quidditch, the ability to talk Parseltongue – at this point Lyrus thoroughly enjoyed the attention – and what in their opinion could be called power. Fierce discussions took turns with mutual agreements and pleasant silence.

During one of these silent episodes Harry stood and went to the window. He could feel Draco's eyes on his back but didn't mind at all.

Draco watched his friend – for that Harry was, and probably the best Draco ever had – hugging himself while he leant against the window frame. Harry's eyes were distant while they searched the ground outside for something Draco couldn't name. After a minute or two Draco lay back on the couch, averted his eyes from Harry's dark form and instead lost himself in the intricate design of the wooden ceiling.

He was startled out of his reverie when Harry's voice disrupted the silence.

"Have you ever imagined what a free fall would feel like? To just let go and jump; to feel the rush of the air, the wind in your face?" Harry asked without taking his eyes from the ground far below them; he could have talked to himself.

"It would be the same as Quidditch, wouldn't it?" Draco said, ignoring the dreamy expression on Harry's face.

Harry finally turned away from the window and locked eyes with Draco. "But you would be entirely free, weightless, only you and the air."

"And the ground you would crush into and that would squash you into mush," Draco added dryly.

"Draco." Harry sounded annoyed and looked out again.

"Sorry," was the murmured response.

Once again they lapsed into silence. Harry stared out onto the misty ground and Draco settled back on the pattern of the old ceiling.

"Would you really jump?" Draco asked eventually in a subdued tone.

It felt like hours before Harry answered. "I don't know."

"You do know, though, that humans can't fly, don't you?"

A small smile crept onto Harry's face. "Of course."

"Good, because then you should remember that and use your broom the next time the urge of flying arises. Honestly, Harry, I know there's some crazy stuff in that head of yours but this really takes the biscuit."

"Hmm."

"Promise me you won't jump, please. It doesn't look good to have a pile of mud as a friend." Draco tried to get back to the fun they had had earlier through stultifying what was said, and for a moment he succeeded in re-conjuring the impish smile from before.

"You're right of course," Harry said, "that would clash horribly with your otherwise impeccable appearance. It's just," and the smile vanished again, "that I have the feeling that nothing would happen. I know that sounds stupid, but that's just the way it is."

Draco didn't know what to say, but Harry took the decision away when he returned to the sitting area and lazily dropped into the armchair; the cheerful attitude once again back in full force. "You know, Muggles sometimes put ropes around their feet and then jump from bridges. It's called Bungee Jumping."

"Well, Muggles are Muggles, they regularly do stupid things."

And the beginning of a heated discussion about Muggle stupidity was laid.

***************

Everything around Harry was darkness, and it was freezing cold. He didn't know why he was afraid, but his whole body and soul screamed to run away, to be allowed to leave this place.

Tentatively, he took some steps forward. The blackness around him turned into grey and eventually into solid, dark grey stone wall. The room felt somewhat familiar, but he couldn't say why. Back in his mind a memory yearned to be remembered, but Harry couldn't remember, neither did he know why he should. Instead, he walked further along the wall, letting the fingers of his left hand run over its surface.

Shadows were moving some yards to his right, calling for him in a foreign language. Harry stopped and turned to face them. The shadows were floating between dark tree-silhouettes that promised both safety and danger. Their eerie voices were the only sound Harry could hear. He was strangely aware of the other missing sounds and the lack of wind. Around him was only darkness, the wall and those shadows in the distant trees. He looked down but the floor, too, consisted of darkness. He couldn't even see his feet.

Another voice behind him caught his attention. The voice was speaking in a hissing but far more familiar language, luring Harry away from the unsteady shadows. The voice spoke of recognition, of something he could remember. He turned back to his original direction and followed the call.

The surface under his fingers turned into something smooth, until he was walking alongside an endless window pane. On the other side people were moving, and Harry stopped to watch what they were doing.

Two dark robed figures were hurling a third and considerable smaller person at their feet. The smaller one had unnaturally blond hair, which contrasted too brightly with the surroundings. Without warning, the blond started to scream. The place around Harry was still absolutely quiet, though, and he could only see the anguished face, being free to imagine the sound; and he didn't have any difficulties with that.

A window frame materialized out of nowhere, and Harry started to finger with the handle without looking at it. Beside the young man, another person with long brown hair was thrown on the floor. The blond's hair turned into red and a familiar face looked directly at Harry, pleading, while the dark figures around them started to act again.

_Ron,_ a third voice in a third language whispered. _Ron, Hermione…_It took Harry a while until he noticed that he himself was speaking.

Hermione's face was contorted in pain, and once again, the pleading eyes of his red-haired friend met his.

"No," Harry whispered repeatedly, while he futilely tried to open the window. "No, no, no, no, no!" He recognised the rooms now. He knew what would happen, and he had to prevent it. He had to stop it now, before it was too late!

He averted his gaze from his friends to find out why he couldn't get hold of the window handle, and his heart skipped some beats.

His hands and forearms were turning into dark, greyish fog, unable to hold on to anything solid. The handle would just slide through him. Harry hit against the glass, trying to break it, but his hands would just turn into fog again, not even evoking a sound. The panic returned. He couldn't reach his friends. But he had to. If he failed, they would die. He was sure of that.

Even though he couldn't hear anything, Harry was aware of the pain they were in. He started to scream himself while trying to find a way to his friends.

In vain.

"You can't help them," a voice behind Harry said, and he spun around.

On a bone-white throne with high back and carved snakes at the armrests sat Lord Voldemort. His red eyes shone in the darkness like the sanguinary eyes of a hungry beast, waiting for his prey to make the first mistake.

Harry stepped back. The window and his friends had vanished and were completely erased from his mind. He wanted to run away, but his legs wouldn't move like he wanted them to. As he took another step backwards his legs denied their service, and he fell down on the now visible floor – a small, grey island in the midst of blackness.

From under the ivory throne, a dark, crimson liquid was pouring out and started to cover the grey stone floor. Harry tried to crawl away but once again his hands and legs turned into fog and were unable to support him.

Voldemort stood and deliberately approached Harry. His bare feet disturbed the calm surface of the liquid. "You can't run away from me, Harry," he said in a sinister voice, which nevertheless spoke of truth. "In the end you will loose, no matter what."

By now, the entire floor was covered with the red substance. Harry's robes soaked wet and he started to sink lower, down into the blood covered floor. He tried desperately to find anything to hold on to, so he wouldn't sink any deeper. But there was nothing in his reach.

Voldemort was circling him and the small ripples created by his movements turned into full grown waves that crashed into Harry's face and threatened to submerge him.

He lost the fight and was pushed under the surface of the floor turned blood-coloured sea. Soon enough the last bit of air left his lungs, and black spots started to dance in front of his eyes. The last thing he could see before darkness engulfed him was the triumphant smile on Voldemort's face.

Harry awoke with a gasp; bed sheets wrapped around his legs, and body bathed in sweat from head to toe. His heart was racing and his pulse beat in his ears.

"A nightmare," he thought. It was just a nightmare, no return of misleading visions send by Voldemort. Just a mean trick his mind was playing him. Nevertheless, he checked on Ron before he even tried to get back to sleep. For a long time he lay in his bed, trying to convince himself that there was nothing to worry about.

Two days later Harry jumped from the Astronomy tower.

***************

**TBC...**

**A/N: **Ehm, I'm sorry? Honestly, I didn't plan to need so much time to finish this chapter, but what can I say? Real life issues. Anyway, I hope you liked the chapter. Review! ^^

And to my latest review, cass: No I'm not done. And I promise I won't abandon Changing Twilight.


	15. Chapter 15: Anxiety and Alteration

**CHANGING TWILIGHT**  
**By Severnaya**

**Chapter 15: Anxiety and Alteration**

_Let me fall,  
Let me climb,  
There's a moment when fear and dreams must collide.  
(Josh Groban – Let me fall)_

Draco trudged through the snow, hands deep in his pockets to get them warm after flying for over one hour. He had stayed longer after Quidditch training, cherishing a few minutes without the hostile, but by now sometimes also curious, glances from the rest of the students. Dusk was setting in and turned the snow-covered landscape in a deep-blue fairytale. It was snowing slightly, and the soft snowflakes danced slowly in the light that came from the castle.

He stopped and let his gaze wander from one window to another and a deep-settled calm overtook him. Hogwarts was so much more than just a school. He finally understood how Harry must have felt like over the years.

A movement at the Astronomy Tower caught his attention. He squinted his eyes and, eventually, could make out a single figure that was moving near the balustrade. After about half a minute the person stopped and, to Draco's morbid fascination, climbed on top of the balustrade. The moment the person straightened up, Draco's previous calm and fascination turned into blood-freezing panic in only a single heartbeat.

There, sufficiently illuminated by the light coming from the inside, stood Harry.

Draco's heart skipped a beat when Harry stepped even closer to the edge. The idiot certainly wouldn't –

He would.

Draco darted forward the second Harry's feet left the stone, in the unrealistic assumption that he could change the inevitable just by being closer. Perhaps, if he were nearer, he could cast a _Wingardium Leviosa_? Perhaps it would work. Perhaps not. He didn't know. In fact, he didn't know anything besides the fact that his best friend had jumped from the Astronomy Tower and was currently falling to his death, and that his damn feet weren't moving fast enough.

Harry's arms were spread out wide like the wings of an eagle. He looked like one of those cliff jumpers Draco had seen on a holiday in Greece once – only that the cliff was replaced by an ancient castle and the yielding water by solid ground – or like one of those bungee jumpers Harry had told him about – just without rope.

Damn all those gods above and below, he didn't get close fast enough.

***************

Harry was flying, literally. The wind was blowing in his face, tousling his hair and caressing his cheeks. His clothes were flapping around him like a willow tree during a storm, and the rapidly closer coming ground made his pulse go faster. A pure and joyful feeling was flowing through his body and was making him feel better than any drug ever could. He was happier and more alive than ever before in his life. It was bliss.

Speed and the intense emotions turned the world around him into a blurry vagueness, a greyish memory without meaning.

After what felt like an eternity, Harry's feet met the ground and a goofy grin spread on his face. He looked up and bathed in the renewed sensations upon seeing the way he had come. He definitely had to do that again.

***************

Draco saw a grey mist forming all around Harry until a dark cloud surrounded him fully. It was the similarity with the Schattenwesen that made him stop in his tracks and watch, with a gobsmacked expression on his face, the last bit of Harry's fall until the Gryffindor landed elegantly on his feet. For a moment it seemed as if Harry wasn't just surrounded by the cloud but as if he was part of it. In a flowing movement Harry straightened up and looked up to the Astronomy Tower. Fog was waving all around him like pieces of a tattered robe. Draco was irritated by the grin on Harry's face , as even in the sparse light of dusk he could see how happy Harry was.

Still frozen in shock and unable to utter a single sound, Draco watched Harry go back inside the castle; the fog vanished within seconds.

It took Harry several hours until he fully realised what he had done, until elation turned into disbelief, disbelief into shock and shock into horror. It wasn't normal to jump from the Astronomy Tower and survive.

***************

Thursday morning Harry sat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall for breakfast, listening to Hermione's latest complains that she couldn't mention all relevant information in the current Potions assignment, which was _only_ three feet long. Half of the details and background data Harry never had even heard of; and judged by his expression, neither had Ron.

Absent-mindedly Harry reached for his glass of pumpkin juice and took a swallow; almost instantly he spat everything out, showering the table – Hermione's essay inclusive – with little, red drops.

"Harry!" Hermione shrieked, while trying to save her work with quickly spoken drying charms.

"Urgh, mate, what was that?" Ron asked, his voice somewhere between disgust and amusement.

"Sorry," Harry mumbled, while wiping his mouth with the back of his hands. "That tasted like blood."

Hermione looked sceptical but Ron and Ginny, who didn't sit far down the table, both grinned.

"Somebody jinxed you, Harry?" Ginny asked with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.

Harry narrowed his eyes. He now remembered that Ginny had received a package from Fred and George the morning before. "Gin?"

She held up her hands, denying her involvement. "I haven't done anything. I swear," she said between laughter. "You know I'm a completely innocent fifteen-year old girl."

"Innocent, my ass," Ron threw in and Harry had to smile. Ginny was a lot of things, but innocent was definitely not one of them, not with the brothers of hers.

"Gimme your juice, Ron," he said, "I want to get the taste out of my mouth."

Ron gave him his glass without complains, and Ginny turned back to her breakfast. It felt good seeing Harry like this again, to be able to joke with him once more without fearing retaliation. She didn't know that Harry's thought had already turned dark again.

Ron's juice had tasted like blood, too, at least for him, as Ron drank it without battling an eyelid. Harry had tasted blood before once, and he hadn't enjoyed it particularly. His thoughts went back to the night when he, when Nagini, had bitten Mr. Wesley in the Ministry of Magic. Fresh blood had a very special taste; and it wasn't the feeling of the warm substance slowly running down his throat that he found disgusting, but the idea that it was blood, sucked out of a human, that made it repulsive.

Ginny didn't know these thought, though. She was happy that Harry seemed to be more or less back to his former self. However, there was someone who recognised the expression on Harry's face. From the other end of the Great Hall, Draco Malfoy watched his best friend getting lost in his thought, as he had last autumn.

**************

When Harry had entered the Gryffindor common room that evening, a feeling of dread had overcome him; only then had he noticed how similar were the red of the walls and the crimson colour of blood.

Now, two days later, he stood in the sixth-years boys' bathroom, facing the showers completely naked but not daring to move any closer. By now he was sure that it wasn't a jinx that turned everything into blood; in fact he was sure that no student – current or former – was responsible for it but that it was just one more of the strange development in his life. It would fit, wouldn't it? After all, hadn't he jumped from the Astronomy Tower the other day and was still happily alive? Well, at least he was alive. Fact was that all liquids, be it juice or the soup they had had for lunch yesterday, had turned into blood. Didn't that work well with his latest dreams in which he himself turned into fog? It was just perfect for his – now literally – bloody life.

He had skipped the shower the day before – nothing uncommon in a dorm where the inhabitants overslept regularly, after all breakfast was more important than a daily shower – but now he couldn't postpone any longer.

The other sixth-years had already finished their showers, so Harry had the room for his own. His clothes lay at the bench to the side, arranged in two neat piles far tidier than what was normal for Harry. He had taken his time for it. After having folded and piled his old and new clothes (these in the correct order to use), arranging every bath utensil in his reach and polishing the huge mirror above the washbasin, there was nothing left to prolong the inevitable.

Nervously, he looked at the drops of water that sparkled on the tiles and watched as they slowly made their way down to the drain. The last two days all liquids had turned into blood, and he really could do without a blood shower.

Thinking his behaviour was silly, Harry stepped forward and wiped his right hand over one of the walls. The droplets moistened his hand but nothing else happened. Letting out a relieved sigh, Harry laughed at his stupidity and went entirely into the shower. It possibly was just a jinx with longer duration and whoever was responsible for it was laughing his ass off.

Once the enjoyable warm water rained down on him and soaked his hair, Harry relaxed completely. He stepped to the side to shampoo his hair before he went back under the stream to rinse it. He put his head back, enjoying the feeling of the water on his skin while it was running down his face and over his eyes and lips. He opened his mouth slightly.

Seconds later Harry stopped dead. His eyes flew open, as he more or less jumped out from under the water. He stared at the peaceful rain of clear water in the shower, while the fingers of his left hand travelled to his mouth and touched the inside of his lips. They came away bloody. He gazed at the red traces on his fingertips, back to the shower and again at his fingers. He then stretched out his hand, so the water would wash away the small vestiges of blood. Feeling more curious than frightened, he withdrew his hand and put a finger into his mouth. There was no doubt by now: as soon as water got inside his mouth, it would turn into blood. At least it looked and tasted like it.

Trancelike and more out of instinct than consciously, Harry finished his shower and got dressed. He stayed in his absent-minded mood for most of the day; fortunately, no one said anything about it.

***************

That night Harry found himself in the stony labyrinth of the secret passages inside of Hogwarts once again. Draco had asked if he wanted to join him in trying out some potions, and Harry had agreed, as being around Draco was easy, no matter what mood he was in. Draco had offered to ask Snape for permission, as Harry would be out after curfew, but Harry had just told him not to worry about that. He would be there on time; Snape didn't need to know.

Once more Harry checked the Marauder's map to assure that he was still on the right way. While walking silently through the ancient maze, Harry's thoughts went back to the last time he had used this way to get into Snape's quarters. He still wasn't sure if it was the worse or the best decision he had ever made in his life; after all it had brought him to Morven and the other Schattenwesen. Finally he reached the wall that would lead him into Snape's rooms. The map showed him that Draco was sitting in the living room. Snape was nowhere to be seen, so Harry went through the hidden door, startling the Slytherin enough that he dropped the book he had been reading.

A short time later they were both sitting on the floor of Draco's room. The door to the shared living room and Snape's private quarters was closed and locked. The Potions master had agreed with Draco practising potions, but both boys weren't sure how the professor would react on discovering their nightly arrangement.

The fire below the cauldron was already creaking merrily and created a cosy atmosphere in the relatively dark room.

They were cutting ingredients when Draco hissed all of a sudden. "Ow!" he said, while contracting his brows.

"What happened?" asked Harry.

"I cut myself." Draco was discarding the knife he had used, while he answered. "Weren't there tissues somewhere?"

"Give me your hand." Harry had spoken without conscious thought, but Draco didn't seem to mind his demand. Harry took the offered limb and examined the wound near Draco's wrist. The pale skin was already stained with crimson patterns. The cut didn't look too serious, but it was bleeding enough. Still without sparing it a thought, Harry lifted Draco's wrist to his mouth.

Draco watched Harry scrutinizing the small wound. He had complied with Harry's command without hesitation but was now finding the situation somewhat awkward. It was just a plain cut. Who was he to need help with something like that - a five year old? He hadn't even used some dangerous ingredients that could cause problems in his system. He didn't say anything, though, nor did he move a bit. Instead, he, strangely enough, noticed that Harry's fingers would reach entirely around his wrist. The other boy would just have to turn his fingers a little bit to the side and the fingertips would touch, captivating Draco. At this instant, Harry lifted Draco's arm and, while closing his eyes, bent down a bit until his lips touched smooth skin. For a moment Draco stopped breathing, completely forgetting the awkwardness he felt seconds before.

Draco could feel the slight pressure Harry exerted and the wetness of Harry's tongue where it touched his skin, far too similar to a kiss. The pressure increased, and Draco's heart began to race. The sight of Harry kneeling in front of him, sucking his blood, as if he was a vampire who had bitten his prey, made Draco's head spin. He could almost imagine how his blood would taste inside of Harry's mouth. He should think of it as repulsive, but he couldn't. The mere touch of Harry's cool hands on his skin, Harry's breath on his artery, partly intertwined fingers… With his mouth slightly open, Draco couldn't help but stare at the young man in front of him.

Then Harry opened his eyes, and Draco was lost.

For a moment, the two of them just stared at each other, but then a shadow ran over Harry's face and his eyes widened, as if he would wake up from a deep trance. Slowly he let Draco's arm down, revealing his blood-smeared lips.

"Sorry, I'm…" he began to stutter. Harry couldn't believe it. He hadn't just licked off the superficial blood until the bleeding would stop, which by itself would have been strange enough, but no, he really had sucked out Draco's blood.

They sat in silence for a while, both deep in thoughts. Harry pondered about what was happening with him and if he had squandered his friendship with Draco due to his recent act, for he had seen the shock in Draco's eyes.

Draco in the meantime, didn't think at all about cancelling his friendship with Harry. Instead, he tried to understand what had just happened, and what he had felt during it. Only Harry could baffle him in such a surround way. Whichever way he looked at it and against better judgement, he couldn't help but describe Harry's act and the way he had looked as attractive, even sensual.

_This can't be._

Harry had stayed until about one in the morning. They had gotten back to normal working atmosphere, but both of them had paid close attention not to touch each other and masterly had ignored any reference to previous happenings.

***************

The next morning Harry woke once again bathed in sweat after being caught in an obscure and deeply disturbing mixture of dream and nightmare. Everyday classes were interrupted by vampires who wanted to torture him but couldn't do so, as Harry turned into fog that would vanish in the chinks between the floor boards; Ron and Draco choking on blood, Hermione jumping from a cliff because she had found an old textbook where the author declared it possible to walk in the air, and Harry unable to help anyone of them. Death Eaters and teachers, Sirius and Lupin stood at the edge of his vision and watched Harry fail everyone. Somewhere in the background he could hear his aunt utter another prophecy Harry couldn't understand because she was talking in Parseltongue, and he had lost the ability to speak the snake-language when he went down to the giant squid, asking for help. Scene followed after scene, merging into one another or changing abruptly for what felt like hours. Now, finally awake, Harry needed several minutes to gather himself. It was still early in the morning, and the other boys in the dorm were still asleep. Being Sunday, Harry assumed this wouldn't change soon. He allowed himself some more minutes to calm down, before he got up, showered, dressed and finally left the Gryffindor Tower. He needed this Sunday to put his life back in order.

***************

The Gryffindors were frantic; they hadn't seen Harry at all that day, and even if they had looked for him for about one hour now, they couldn't find him.

During the last days, Harry had been very pensive and quiet; nothing uncommon in general but in retrospect it was alarming enough for them, especially now that Harry had vanished into thin air.

Hermione spotted a shock of blond hair among the students who were on their way to dinner in the Great Hall. Sniffing her chance, she motioned Ron to follow her and made her way to the blond Slytherin.

"Malfoy," Hermione called. "Hey, Malfoy, wait a minute!"

Hearing his name, Draco turned around and saw Harry's two friends approach him. He stepped out of the flow of students and waited for the two Gryffindors to reach him.

"What's the matter, Granger?" he asked.

"Have you seen Harry?" The girl's voice sounded concerned. "We've been looking for him for a while now, but we cannot find him anywhere."

"No," Draco denied, "I haven't seen him today; but it's not that he isn't allowed to be alone every now and then, now is it?"

"No, of course not," Granger relented in her typical know-it-better attitude that annoyed Draco so much. "It's just, well…"

"He started to distance himself again," Ron helped Hermione out. "Surely you've noticed that, Malfoy, as often as the two of you are together."

Draco didn't answer right away. His first thought was that a bit more distance between himself and Harry would have been good the night before, but he let the thought drop right away. He had, indeed, noticed the new shifts in Harry's behaviour and his renewed seclusion; and he knew for sure that something was happening with Harry – what human turned into fog and, thus, survived a jump from a two hundred feet high tower?

"Where have you been looking for him?" he finally asked the other two.

Hermione listed all places they had thought of. All of them had turned out empty.

Draco mentally checked his own list. When Hermione had finished, he could only think of three other possible places.

"You two go to dinner," he told the Gryffindors. "I'll check something."

"Do you know where he is?" Hermione asked.

"Not exactly, but I have an idea."

"We're coming with you," Ron declared.

"No, you won't." Draco was adamant in this. "If you're Harry's friends then you will let me go alone."

***************

Ron and Hermione hadn't been happy about it and had tried to persuade Draco to change his mind. In the end, though, they had given in, as Draco had made it clear that he wouldn't move an inch with them near.

Almost ten minutes later, Draco closed the oak doors and left the sounds of Hogwarts behind. He turned left and followed the ancient walls until he reached the part of the cliffs near the castle that was covered with now leafless deciduous trees.

He found Harry sitting on the floor next to the same stone he had used earlier in the year, with his back against the rough structure and his arms wrapped tightly around his bent legs.

"You're missing dinner," Draco said calmly.

Harry's head bounced up, and he stared at Draco with wide eyes. "Draco." His voice was hoarse, and instead of saying anything else he turned back and stared at the floor in front of him.

Draco sighed and sat down on the stone next to Harry. For a while none of the two spoke a word. Eventually, it was Harry who broke the silence.

"So, it's dinner already?"

"It is," Draco confirmed. "Haven't you noticed it's dark already?"

Harry looked around. "Oh."

"You really haven't noticed, have you?"

Harry shrugged. Draco sighed again.

"What's the matter, Harry? What is bothering you?"

"Nothing. Everything. I don't know."

"Harry."

"It's just the usual shit that is called my life, satisfied?"

"Nope." Draco answered in an almost cheery tone.

"Draco!" For a moment Harry sounded exasperated, but his depressive mood returned instantly. "It's just…, I…"

Harry was biting his lips and looked so desolate that Draco decided to offer Harry a beginning. "Is this about jumping from the Astronomy Tower?"

Harry stared at him in shock. "You know?"

Draco nodded. "I've seen you."

"So it really wasn't a dream?" It was a pitiful attempt of a joke, and Harry knew it.

"I assure you it wasn't. I swear my heart skipped several beats. You gave me quite a fright there."

"Why haven't you-?"

"Said anything?" Revealed myself?"

Harry nodded.

"Honestly? I'm not sure. I guess it didn't really matter. You'll hear from me, though, if you do something that stupid ever again"

Harry looked at him incredulously. "It didn't matter that I jumped from the Astronomy Tower?"

"I didn't mean it that way, you idiot." Draco said with a small smile on his face. "You've landed safely, didn't you?"

Harry huffed. "Yeah, because I turned into some bloody fog! God, Draco, I don't know what's happening now." Harry grimaced, stood up and started to walk up and down. "What is the reason for living when your whole life consists only of pain and fear? No one can fight the whole time…" Harry's voice broke. He stopped and tried to get his erratic breathing under control. "You know," Harry sniffed, or perhaps it was a desperate laugh, "for a while I really thought I could just live my life and be happy. I'm so stupid.

"Call me pathetic or whatever you like, and perhaps I'm just overreacting, but there is so much happening at the same time, there's so much stuff running around in my head. I don't know what to think anymore."

Draco watched Harry loosing more of his composure with every minute that passed. Apparently there were a lot pent-up emotions and now was the time where the dam wasn't high enough anymore and the water ran over.

"Didn't the Schattenwesen help you with some of it?" he asked tentatively. "I had the impression they solved several problems, like Voldemort's power over you."

Harry sighed. "Of course they did. They'd cut the connection I had had with Voldemort; they literally sucked out the greatest despair I felt at that time, and after that they offered me something in return which I thought I could never call mine: a family who cared about me. They did all this, and I can never be grateful enough for it; but I still have the memories, Draco. I still remember everything that has happened, everything that is happening."

The last part was a mere whisper, and Draco had to strain his ears to understand it. The way Harry's eyes stared into nothingness, he looked nearly apathetic, swaying slightly back and forth.

Without warning, Harry's legs turned into mist that couldn't support the body anymore, and with a small sob Harry dropped down to the floor like a puppet whose strings were cut.

Instantaneously, Draco got up and sat down next to the trembling heap that was Harry. Without another thought he engulfed the other boy in a close embrace.

Harry clung to his front, and Draco, following some inner instincts, rocked them slowly.

Several minutes passed during which they sat there in silence between the wind-shaped trees.

"Everything turns into blood," Harry mumbled out of the blue.

Draco stopped for a second but then resumed the slight rocketing. "What do you mean?"

"Every liquid that comes into my mouth turns into blood, even potions."

Draco didn't know how to react. He never before had heard of something like this. He didn't need to worry, though, as Harry was already rumbling on.

"And then there's the prophecy, and I don't know how to kill him, nobody does." Harry turned bloodshot eyes to Draco. "I just want to be normal; just once in my life."

Tears threatened to run down his cheeks.

"Harry," Draco began, "you'll never be 'normal'." Draco made sure that his voice made it clear what he thought about being normal. "You never will and you don't have to. Being normal means being common, to go down in the mass. I know sometimes you wish for that to happen, but what you really want is that they stop looking up to you, as if you had all the answers. You don't wish for being normal, you wish for being left alone. Being normal means you don't have a character of your own, and if that's the case your enemies have already won because you wouldn't stand up for your beliefs."

Draco didn't know where the words came from; neither did he know if they made sense, nor if he believed them. He just said whatever came to his mind.

"I'm sure there is a way to use these new 'powers' of yours for your advantage. Come on, Harry, don't let Voldemort win now he can't reach you anymore."

Harry shook his head slowly in denial. "I can't fight anymore. I don't want to. I just don't want to anymore."

Harry's voice had turned into a whisper once again, and Draco could feel his body trembling under subdued sobs.

In this very moment Draco was reminded of one of the major differences between him and Harry. He would have chosen to be a Death Eater over dying, and he was sure he would do a lot of things if it would safe his life. Harry, however, had chosen death over life at all costs.

"It hurts, Draco," Harry mumbled into Draco's chest.

Draco followed Harry's line of vision. Harry's right leg was constantly switching between human and fog. Making a decision Draco heaved Harry to his feet, holding him close and supporting him with his own body.

"Come on, Harry," he said. "I take you to Morven. As strange as it may sound but the Schattenwesen seem to be a more suitable choice right now than I am."

***************

**TBC...**

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A/N:** Once again I am sorry for the long wait. How do you pause real life for a while? Review please and tell me your thoughts.

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Do you know my other story, **Unbeknownst**?

_A grey sky, a battle, an encounter between two enemies and one plan; how does this come together?_

_Unbeknownst is a sad narration of a battle between the forces of the Light and the Dark told in first person. It will tell you about the last battle, the final fight - or won't it? What unexpected happenings are there that will change the world we knew? Read about an encounter between Harry and Voldemort we hadn't thought possible._

_Oneshot, could be called slash_

Just go to my profile page (click on my name above) and you'll find the story in the "my stories" section._  
_


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